Rewrite the Stars
by Hamliet
Summary: When exchange student Eiji Okumura arrives at his American high school for a year abroad, his worries about fitting in and earning As are quickly swept aside when he meets Ash Lynx, a genius rumored to have spent time in juvie last year. High School AU... (like, where they're actually in school there's a chance of healing).
1. Into the Lion's Den

**Thanks for reading! While there will be fluff and typical high school fun in this fic, the plot, despite the lack of Banana Fish (the drug) is not actually that different than the plot of the story from which it's drawn. In other words, it will heavily deal with abuse recovery, specifically sexual abuse. I'll put trigger warnings before specific chapters (and as always, nothing will be graphic), but I wanted to forewarn in case it's triggering for anyone.**

* * *

"Be careful, or they'll eat you alive!"

"Huh?" Eiji jumped. He peered at his sister, one hand clutched around the suitcase he'd just dragged down the stairs.

"Don't say such things!" reprimanded his mother. She stepped into the room, purse on her arm.

"It's true. If he dresses like that, with his pants cuffed up, he's got no chance. I've watched so many American high school movies; I'm basically an expert." His sister winked at him.

 _You're not helping_. He swallowed.

"Be nice to your brother," scolded their mother.

"I'm always nice." She beamed. It was almost easy to forget Eiji heard her crying herself to sleep last night. He spent the entire night debating whether or not to knock on her door, ask if she was okay, but in the end, he just huddled in his own room, clothes and books he should have packed days ago strewn across his bed.

"Take this." His sister thrust a charm at him. "For good luck. See, Mom?"

"Thanks." Eiji stuffed it in his pocket. "I guess I should be going."

The three of them all stepped outside the house together, the sweet end-of-summer breeze caressing their hair. But neither his mother nor his sister were coming to the airport with him. They were going to visit his father, still hospitalized as he'd been for the better part of the past two years. The man had frowned when he heard Eiji was accepted into the exchange student program, and only agreed to sign the necessary papers for his high school-aged son to travel to New York when Ibe Shunichi agreed to let Eiji stay with him, instead of a random host family. His parents knew and trusted Ibe-san.

"Be safe!" called his mother.

 _Safe_. Eiji watched metal birds flying overhead, trailing white behind them, the closer the cab got to the airport. It seemed an odd request to make of a boy who spent years launching himself meters and meters into the air, falling as sport.

He glanced down at his pants, his sister's joke still echoing in his head. Were they really so bad?

The metal detector screeched when he attempted to walk through it. Hands up and face boiling red, Eiji walked towards the security agent.

The man sighed. "Empty your pockets."

Eiji pulled out the charm his sister had given him. Of course it was metal. He cringed. "I apologize; I—"

The man patted him down and gestured for him to move ahead. Eiji heaved a sigh. He glanced down at the stupid charm.

It wasn't for safety. It was for finding a wife.

And he was only a high school student, sixteen. _What were you thinking_? Most likely, she hadn't been. He tried to be invisible whenever he could, tried to pretend he had no problems so that no one would worry. And yet his sister still cried and his father was still sick and he was so silent.

Twenty-seven hours of traveling later and Eiji was starting to think that this might have been a huge mistake. Except, no. He couldn't let himself think that. He needed to do this. His grades had stagnated, his ankle ached when it rained, and after school all he could do was lie on his bed and stare at the blank ceiling, or visit his father and comfort him with words they both knew were empty.

"Shouldn't be your role," his father mumbled once, and Eiji felt the uselessness dripping through his veins even though he knew his father didn't mean it like that. "You should be living, and I'm the one who should be dying."

 _I'm such a burden, even when I try to help._

"Eiji!"

He blinked as he exited customs, a US stamp on his passport. Ibe waved at him, a big smile on his face, ever-present camera hung around his neck. Behind Ibe, the city glittered like crystals.

Eiji's lips parted in a smile as he hurried outside. The New York air was colder than Izumu's, but not that bad. He craned his neck, looking up.

"How was your flight?" Ibe asked, taking his suitcase for him.

"Fine, fine!" Eiji said. Around him, everyone chattered in English. It smelled like car exhaust and coffee. A woman bickered with her two children, who were saying words to her that would have earned Eiji a slap if he'd ever talked to his mother that way.

"I'll text your mother that you've arrived safely. It's about a forty-minute cab ride to my place," Ibe said. "I imagine you'll want to rest."

Eiji nodded. Exhaustion ground into each of his cells. The idea of a bed he could lie down on...

"And school starts on Monday, so you have the weekend to sleep and try to adjust to the time difference."

Eiji swallowed.

 _They'll eat you alive!_

They wouldn't. Right?

* * *

"Do you want me to come in with you?" Ibe asked, pausing in front of the squat brick building. Eiji peered at it, watching students mill about, dressed in torn jeans and t-shirts, bags slung across their shoulders. It was different from the crisply pressed uniforms of his school back in Japan.

"I'll be fine." Eiji gave him a smile. He was supposed to head to the office first and meet with the principal, get his schedule.

"Good luck!" Ibe called.

Eiji waved as he squared his shoulders and marched towards the building. They had talked a bit, Eiji showing Ibe some of his photography, and Ibe said he was talented. Eiji couldn't tell if he was just being nice, though.

The hallways swarmed with students, gathered around their lockers and jabbering with groans and complaints about homework already. A boy with unkempt blond hair jabbed a friend next to him and gestured at Eiji. They laughed.

Eiji's throat clenched. He ducked his head and hurried through the hallways, heading down a stairwell. He found the office with ease. _So far, so good._

"New student?" asked the secretary, an older lady. Her name plate read _Suk-Leui._

Eiji nodded. "Eiji Okumura."

"Ah, the exchange student!" She beamed at him and gestured for him to take a seat. He dropped onto the backless red bench. "Principal Lee will be with you in a moment."

Eiji clasped his hands together, bouncing his leg as he waited.

The door opened again. A red-headed older man with a cheerful smile pushed a blonde boy into the room. But instead of having the harsh features of the boy who'd laughed at Eiji, this one's nose and chin looked perfectly sculpted, jade gems implanted for eyes. He glanced at Eiji.

Eiji scrambled to his feet.

"No causing trouble, okay?" The redheaded man smiled, clapping the blonde's as he left. It seemed to almost be a wish rather than a jest.

"New student?" asked the secretary.

The boy folded his arms. "Ash Lynx."

 _That's your real name?_

"We don't have anyone registered by that name."

The boy exhaled. "Aslan Callenreese. Junior."

"Aslan… like the lion? From Narnia?" Eiji blurted out.

The boy turned to him. "I guess." He plopped down on the bench, scowling. "I go by Ash."

 _Geez, he's intense_. Eiji rubbed the back of his neck.

"Are you a freshman?" Ash asked him.

"Hm?" Now Eiji scowled. "No. I'm a junior. Same as you."

"Huh. You look like a middle schooler."

Eiji folded his arms, sitting down on the bench too. "Well, I'm not."

"Not a child prodigy?"

His ankle throbbed. "Not hardly. I'm an exchange student. From Japan."

"Oh." Ash's eyes widened.

"Eiji."

"What's that?"

"My name?"

Ash actually laughed, but instead of being the gritty, mocking laugh of the boy earlier, it was not at Eiji but at himself. "Sorry, _Eiji_. It's too early for my brain to be working. Not all Americans are dumbasses, I promise."

"Fair," Eiji agreed. "I'm still jet lagged. It's eight in the evening back home."

"That sounds like a nightmare."

"Well, I like getting up early, but five is pushing it. The sun wasn't even up yet."

"You like that? I take it back, you're elderly." Ash laughed again.

"You're definitely a teenager."

"That doesn't sound like a compliment."

"I didn't mean it to be rude!" Eiji was just trying to joke. He cringed.

"I was teasing, too." Ash smiled.

"Callenreese, Okumura, in my office," came a new voice. A tall man with a set jaw beckoned them through the door with the gold-plated label: _Principal Lee._

"School rules," said Principal Lee, getting right down to business. He passed them a list of infractions, including bullying, physical fighting, drugs, alcohol, the usual. Ash finished reading his list long before Eiji did. "Any questions?"

Eiji shook his head.

"What happens if we break them?" asked Ash.

"You'll see me." Principal Lee folded his hands. "We've heard of you, Ash. I wouldn't push things too much, unless you want to wind up back in juvie."

 _Juvie_ — _like juvenile prison?_ Eiji's eyes bulged. Ash's jaw tightened. _He's been in prison?_

"Charlie Dickenson is our campus police officer," said Principal Lee. "I believe you're already acquainted, Ash."

 _Why are you being so rude to him?_ Eiji didn't understand.

Ash studied his red converse sneakers.

"Okay then. Here are your schedules."

A knock on the door. Principal Lee leaned back in his chair. Eiji noticed that the room was devoid of anything personal. All the books were textbooks, and the shades were drawn over the windows, blocking the sunlight. Oh wait, no—there was one photo hung on the walls. An old man and six boys. _Your father and your brothers?_

A boy who definitely looked younger than Eiji entered, clad in a baggy blue and white jacket. His jeans were stained.

"Soo-Ling Sing," said Principal Lee. "Please show these two around on their first day."

"Sure thing." Sing shrugged. Eiji and Ash followed Sing out of the office and into the hallway.

"I can find my own way," said Ash. "But thanks. See you in literature, Eiji." He waved, sauntering down the hallway teeming with students.

"Damn," mumbled Sing, watching Ash go. Eiji watched Ash tap a tall Asian boy with a purple mohawk on the shoulder. "Ash's best friend," commented Sing.

"Do you know each other?" asked Eiji.

Sing gestured for Eiji's schedule. "It's more like everyone knows _of_ Ash. He's kind of hard not to know of. He got kicked out of two separate schools since he started high school, and a few middle schools besides, even though he has an IQ of at least 200. And he spent time in juvie for trying to kill someone once, or so I heard."

"What?" Eiji's jaw dropped. _That_ boy, the one who he'd just been laughing with?

"His brother was disabled in an accident years ago. Ash took care of him until a robber killed him last summer, and then the cops figured out he was living on his own which kinda isn't allowed," said Sing, his voice ringing with a kind of respect. "I was so excited to hear he was gonna be coming here. Anyways, that's his best friend, Shorter Wong, who is also awesome and my neighbor, and you have calculus first with Jenkins, which is going to suck, but I have it too, so we can bitch about it together."

Eiji trotted along behind Sing.

"You nervous about starting school in a new country?" asked Sing.

"No," Eiji lied.

A tall boy high-fived Sing right before they ducked into the calculus classroom. "Cain Blood," said Sing. "He's pretty cool. Everyone's afraid of him, but they don't really need to be."

A girl with long, waist-length onyx hair sauntered into the classroom. A amethyst brooch clipped her hair back from her face, and bangs dangled around her chin. Her clothes gleamed, clearly designer. "Most popular girl in school?" Eiji tried to joke.

"That's a guy."

Eiji winced. "I'm sorry!" 0 for 2 with jokes today.

"Yut-Lung Lee," said Sing. "You're not the first to make that mistake, and you don't be the last. He's that principal's littlest brother. He used to live with another brother of theirs—they've got seven kids total—but he's been living with a new guardian since summer and no one knows why." Sing rested his chin on his gloved fist. The glove was missing the fingers. " _I_ haven't even been able to find out." He kicked back in his chair. "You're welcome to eat lunch with me and my friends, by the way. Unless you'd rather eat with Ash."

"I don't even know him."

"Eh, he seemed to like you."

Eiji blinked. "We just met."

"He said he'd _see you later_ ," said Sing. "I don't think he even knows my name, and I'm friends with Shorter. Granted I've never talked to him before, so he's got no reason to."

 _Do you have some kind of crush or something?_ Eiji wondered.

"Well, sort-of friends," said Sing. He drummed his pencil on his desk. " _He_ knows my name, that is."

Literature came in third period, when Eiji was already struggling to keep up. His English was fluent, but understanding academics taught in another language was definitely a new experience. He paused when he saw Ash sitting in the back corner of the classroom, Shorter at the desk in front of him.

Ash glanced over at him. He waved.

Eiji waved back. Shorter studied him. Eiji froze, clutching his backpack.

Ash gestured towards one of the seats around him. Eiji hurried over and dropped into the desk next to him. "Hi."

"How boring has your morning been?" Ash asked.

"Hey, not all of us can sleep in every class and still ace a test," complained Shorter. "Shorter Wong."

"I know," Eiji said, and Shorter tilted his head. "I mean, Sing told me. Eiji Okumura."

"Alex," said another friend.

"Kong."

"Bones."

 _Does everyone have a cool nickname except Alex?_

"Eiji's from Japan," said Ash. "Shorter likes manga."

"I wish we could read that in lit," complained Shorter.

Eiji snorted. Literature seemed interesting. They had a whole list of Hemingway to read.

"You sitting anywhere for lunch?" asked Ash when it ended.

"Sing asked me to—"

"Invite him too," said Shorter. "Sing's cool, Ash. He and Lao live next to me and Nadia. I know I've mentioned him before."

"Oh my god," said Sing when Eiji told him he was invited and that Shorter told Ash he was cool. "I love you."

Lunch went well, with Sing hanging on to Ash's every word, but Eiji noticed that the boy he assumed would be so popular—Yut-Lung—ate lunch alone, at a table in the corner. Eiji didn't share too many classes with Ash after lunch, since he was in all advanced-placement. But his friends were welcoming. Last period was gym, with Ash. Eiji changed in the locker room and heard a familiar laugh.

 _Oh no._

The boy who'd laughed at him when he first arrived that morning.

"Hey," called that voice.

Eiji turned. Ash emerged from a stall, having changed in private.

The other boy smirked at him. "I heard of you. You some big-shot pole-vaulter in Japan?"

Eiji shifted. "No."

"Huh?" asked the boy. "Our stupid homeroom teacher made us look you up. To be _welcoming_." He smiled, revealing crooked teeth.

"Leave him alone, Arthur," said Ash.

"We didn't have to look _you_ up," said Arthur. "Guess they didn't want us seeing juvenile records or reading about your brother's accident. Or stabbing. Honestly that was probably a mercy; wasn't he basically a vegetable?"

Ash's eyes narrowed. "Watch yourself."

"I'm talking to Eiji," said Arthur. "So, like, don't you have to be good at something to get into an exchange program? Aren't you in like, the regular people classes?"

Eiji ignored him, stuffing his clothes in his locker.

"Didn't you win a bunch of medals or—"

"I got injured last year," Eiji said, turning to face him. "I can't jump anymore."

"You really were a pole-vaulter?" Now Ash looked impressed.

"Yeah."

"Is it that your ankle won't handle it, or are you too scared?" Arthur asked. "I mean, you've looked like you're a second away from peeing yourself all day."

Eiji wanted to die. His cheeks flushed.

" _You can do it, Eiji!"_

 _The pole in his hand, heavy, cold, then hot and damp and slipping with his sweat, the bar so high._

I can't do it.

 _And when he turned, he saw the disappointment riddling his coach's face, searing his memory._

"Hey Arthur," said Ash.

"For the last time, Narcissist, I'm not talking to—"

A crack. Eiji's jaw dropped. Ash's fist collided with Arthur's nose. Blood spurted. Arthur stumbled backwards into the lockers with a clang.

"Should have known," Arthur croaked out. "You've got a stupid heart. I'll get my guys down at the middle school to go after that other boy—what's his name? Skip?"

"Let's get out of here," Ash said to Eiji. Eiji nodded, taking a step. Something blurred behind him.

Arthur's fist shot back out from behind them. Eiji yelped. Ash grabbed Arthur's wrist. He slammed Arthur's hand into the bench. Four snaps.

 _Oh my God._ Eiji's stomach lurched. _Broken?_

Shouts erupted, and that was how Eiji found himself in the principal's office for the second time on his first day.

* * *

"What the hell happened?" demanded Sing to his brother, that stupid senior.

"Some kind of fight," replied Lao. "I guess?"

"For real?" demanded Shorter, appearing through the crowd of students watching. Blood droplets were splattered on the linoleum floor. Charlie looked as if he was asking God what he'd done to deserve this.

"Ash punched Arthur for making fun of the Japanese boy and threatening Skip," Yut-Lung drawled, leaning against the wall.

Everyone's head swiveled around to stare at him. Yut-Lung sighed as if he was bored. In truth, he was fascinated, but he'd be damned before he let on.

"Did you see what happened?" demanded Shorter.

"Yeah," said Yut-Lung, tilting his head up. "They'll be fine, don't worry. It's not a 'call the cops' kind of case. Besides, of course, Charlie, but as we all know, he doesn't really count."

"Watch it," warned the voice of Jenkins, their calculus teacher.

"My apologies," Yut-Lung said, adopting the flat, glass tone he always took with adults.

Jenkins mumbled something about "not off to a good start" and pushed his way through the students and into the principal's office.

"My brother won't expel them," Yut-Lung said to Sing and Shorter. Not Lao; he was useless and didn't need to be addressed. "Arthur was the instigator."

"Are you going to tell him that?" demanded Shorter.

"Why would I need to?" Yut-Lung held up his hands. "The Japanese kid's word should be more than enough." And he was not going to talk to Wang-Lung, not if he didn't have to. He'd been deliberately avoiding his brother's calls for three weeks now, and it felt exhilarating to see all the missed call notifications. He wasn't even opening that phone app, because he needed that little red reminder that he was finally, finally, winning something against his eldest brother. "Trust me; he'll believe him." Not out of the good of Wang-Lung's heart, but because having an exchange student provided the kind of revenue he needed for the school. The superintendent, Dino Golzine, looked favorably on schools that could perform, and this school was climbing its way up the rankings for best public high school in New York City. Which said something considering the neighborhood.

"Okay," Sing said, taking Yut-Lung at his word.

He didn't know Sing or Shorter that well, but he knew they'd be happy when he heard Ash Lynx was going to be transferred in after he blew the latest scholarship to a prep school. Yut-Lung used to watch Ash meet up with Shorter after school, both of them laughing, both of them running off together, while he waited for Hua-Lung to drive him home. On lucky days, Hua-Lung was cold. On unlucky days, he wasn't. Or on the unluckiest days, he'd be driven to the home of a client and picked up in the morning, dropped back off at school, rinse, repeat. Once it went on for over a week.

And Sing, he was always chasing after Shorter. The boy needed some kind of idol and God knew Lao wasn't it. Yut-Lung had tried to slip into that role, offered to help Sing with his geometry homework last year, but Sing hadn't been terribly interested. He was nice, and he thanked Yut-Lung, but he didn't ask him to hang out.

With Ash here, Yut-Lung had no chance now. If only Wang-Lung would actually expel him. No, then Sing and Shorter would probably blame him. They shared blood. They were Lees. He had nothing else.

Yut-Lung tugged his ponytail over his stupid dragon tattoo. He hunched his shoulders. He just hoped the bell would ring so he could run away from this place. Blanca was trusting him to get back to Hua-Lung's house on his own, instead of picking him up. So he could do something after school. If he wanted. If anyone wanted to do something with him.

But he was willing to bet everyone would wait for Ash, even if he offered them a ride home. Not that he had a car.

 _And_ having both Ash and that Eiji Okumura would help Wang-Lung's case. Help him grow in power. Soon he'd be superintendent too, and then go into politics, and through it all Yut-Lung would still be a bargaining chip used to soften opponents.

 _I'm going to be stuck forever._ He almost felt hands closing around his throat. He coughed.

"You all right?" asked Sing, frowning.

Yut-Lung nodded. He wasn't stuck. Hua-Lung was out of the picture. For now, anyways. And that Blanca had agreed to be his guardian for the time being. He could figure out a plan.

And Ash Lynx might be the key to making it work.


	2. Sacrificial Lambs

"Don't even start, old man," Ash said when Max picked him up from the school. Mr. Lee had sent Arthur to the hospital and Eiji home first, and then proceeded to pretentiously lecture Ash like he actually was a Concerned Adult TM who cared, which of course was really a passive aggressive way of asking Ash to help him look good for Dino so that he could get more money should Ash be boring, or asking Ash to rat on Dino so that he could supersede him as superintendent.

Ash was hardly ignorant of how this school system worked. It was no different than any other aspect of society. Maybe worse, because it housed those who were less able to care for themselves.

The people who were supposed to care the most were always the people who cared the least.

" _Are you sure you want to be in a normal school?" asked Mr. Lee, smile curving his lips. "Kids like Arthur are everywhere here."_

 _That was one of the concerns, of course. That he would be bored. Except he'd never been allowed to be bored, not once in his life. Every second, he had to be pruned, refined, polished._

" _They're everywhere, everywhere," Ash replied. Everyone and everything was the same. It could be boring, he supposed, if it wasn't fucking terrifying._

Shorter appeared in the hallway behind Max. Students peered out, looking for a glimpse at the well-known criminal who'd broken Arthur's hand. Ash scowled, hating every glance except Shorter's.

Shorter mouthed at Ash. _You okay?_

Ash gave him a thumbs up.

The ride back to the house Max shared with Jessica and his son, Michael, was silent. Max was probably struggling to say the right thing. But there was nothing to say. George, his caseworker, had found Max Lobo and Jessica Randy after Ash got expelled for beating up one of Skip's bullies and then a nosy teacher, relieved Ash was no longer his student, followed him home. The teacher didn't like the door being slammed in his face and decided to retaliate for a _no_ by creating a fuss, and while Ash was out placating the teacher some stupid robber broke in and shot Griffin. And once they found out he was living alone, they insisted on sending him to live with adults. Because it'd be _safer_.

What a joke. Adults had never been safe, not for him.

His father responded to George by saying he didn't want a whore under his roof. So Ash planned to run away, but then they found Max, Griffin's old best friend from before his accident. Max was tolerable. For now. But Ash didn't trust him.

"Really?" Max asked finally, pulling into the driveway. "Not even _one_ day?"

"He threatened Skip and one of the new kids." And jumped on Ash when he was trying to leave. Because no one would ever let him walk away. Not for anything. He wasn't even sure why he bothered to try anymore.

 _Someone give me another choice._

 _Ha. Ha ha. Ha_. A voice so broken and cynical it scared Ash himself, metallic fear spreading through his mouth, reverberated from the back of his mind. He shoved it away.

No one would give him another choice. So he would fight. He could fight.

"If he's a high school bully, I'm guessing he's full of hot air."

"Well, I'm guessing if you have the luxury of assuming that, we can't relate." Ash pushed himself out of the car and stomped towards the house. Jessica and Michael weren't home. Good.

"Don't you dare go to your room and pack your bags," Max called.

"I'm not running away." Yet. But damn was he annoying. "You have no idea what you're doing with me, do you? This parenting thing new to you, despite having a son? Oh right, you're not my parent."

Max crossed his arms.

Ash dropped his bookbag onto the kitchen floor. "Going to tell me to do my homework? Pick up my bag? Wash the dishes? Ground me for breaking Arthur's hand, when I wish I'd broken the other one too?" He remembered Arthur from his middle school, the prep academy. _Did you assign me to this school to finally take care of him, Dino? Fuck you._

" _Why are you that old man's favorite?" Arthur had yelled back then, and Ash wanted to laugh, wanted to ask Arthur if he really wanted to go for sleepovers at Dino's whenever Marvin felt like sharing, or more accurately, needed money or a favor._

" _Arthur's a jealous brat," said Dino back then. "Don't let him get to you."_ And when Ash didn't listen, he wound up in juvie.

Max's face stiffened. "If you'd like to wind up back in juvie, then—"

"I'd go on the lam this time."

"I'm trying to help you, Ash—"

"That's a cliché line even for you." Ash stomped towards his room. "Relax, my bag's on the floor there. I can't pack it."

"I'm not sure you have much to take with you," Max called.

Okay, fair. Ash scowled, pausing on the stairs. Photos of Michael as a baby, Jessica and Max's wedding in Vegas, Max with his friends in the army. Griffin was there. He'd seen it the day he moved in here. But he hadn't noticed that Griff's arm was around Max's shoulder, that they were laughing despite the desert sun. Something about the way Griffin leaned against Max reminded him of Shorter.

 _You guys really were friends._

 _Why were you the one who came away from that car accident unscathed?_

Ash realized Max was watching him. Fuck. He turned and rushed to his bedroom, slamming the door.

A knock on the door. Double fuck. Ash rolled over, facing the window. The sun hung low in the sky. A bird fluttered around by the window. _Don't fly into the glass, please._ He remembered a bird flying into their window once, when he was about four, and he and Griffin took it in for the winter, helped it get better, watched it fly away in the spring.

" _Will it come back?" he asked Griffin._

" _Maybe."_

 _It never did, and Griff left for the army a few months later, and he promised to come back, but he never did. Not really._

Another knock. "Can I come in?"

"No."

"Can you come out, then?"

"What, you're not barging in?" Ash didn't get it. He rolled over.

"You said no, so—"

"You can do whatever you want. I don't care."

Even through the door Ash could hear Max sigh. And then the door creaked open. Ash pushed himself up. He definitely hadn't made his bed that morning, not that it seemed like Max or Jessica would care.

"Saw you looking at that photo," Max said. "I have other photos, too, if you wanted to see—"

"From the man who was driving when there was that accident? No thanks."

Max recoiled. "Hey, it wasn't—"

"Your fault? Then whose was it, Griff's?" Ash glared.

"No! He—" Max buried his face in his hands. His knuckles blanched white as he clutched his skull. "I—" His breaths came quick.

 _Are you having a panic attack, old man_? Ash yanked his knees up to his chest, watching. Max's breathing slowed again.

 _You really don't know how to do this._

 _And neither do I._

"Sorry," Max muttered. He clutched his head in his hands, as if ashamed. "I'll… go."

A lump grew in Ash's throat as Max turned his back. "Did you take me in out of guilt for him?"

Max paused. He turned. "I don't know," he answered. He met Ash's eyes.

Well, at least he was honest. "I'm not Griffin."

"I know. Neither am I."

"Do you really want me to stay here?" Ash asked, tilting his head back. He could still feel the jade earring Dino had punched into his ear. He wanted to yank it out, but it was $400,000 worth of insurance. "Because you know that there will eventually be trouble. More than Arthur. He's just a pathetic bully." _This is your chance to get out of this._

Max eyed Ash, his brow furrowed. He exhaled and sat down next to Ash. "What kind of things were you involved in?"

Ash shrugged.

"Drugs?"

"I mean I've smoked pot before but I don't have a habit, and I don't sell it." They'd definitely told Max about what happened when he was eight years old, right?

"You say Arthur is pathetic, but you're still beating him up."

"I'm not going to let him get someone to go after Skip at the middle school or be a little bitch to people who don't deserve it."

Max groaned. "If I told you to look away, you wouldn't listen, right?"

"Would you?"

Max smirked. "No. I'm a journalist. We beat up the bullies who never grew up."

"With words."

"Just as effective if you know where to hit."

Ash smiled.

"You could be a good journalist," said Max.

"Huh?" Ash's eyes popped.

"Your writing's good. Channel some of that anger towards something that isn't going to land you back in prison."

"I was only in juvie for about a month."

"You wanna go back?"

 _Really, old man?_ "No." Ash leaned back. "What are you investigating?"

"Dino Golzine. He's the superintendent of the—"

"I know who he is. And I know him. Personally."

"You do?" Max gaped.

"Is _that_ why you took me in?" Horror embedded itself in Ash's spine.

"I had no idea!" Max rubbed his face. "Jesus. That's a massive coincidence."

 _You really didn't?_ He couldn't imagine Max investigating this man, and finding out—everything. _You really won't want me here, then._ Though that could be a relief. But now it made sense. It was no coincidence. Dino was content to let him live with Max, because he would use Ash against him, because Max was clearly naive enough.

" _I heard about what happened with that baseball coach, Ash. The other teachers at the school were afraid to admit you. I pulled some strings. You have such potential. I can see it." His hand roved down Ash's shoulder._

He was only a vice-principal, then. When Ash got expelled at eleven after another teacher found him and his math teacher getting it on in a closet, Dino found him a new school. And Ash realized the moment that horrible foster father, Marvin, who was really just a pimp, called him into the living room and he found Dino sitting there, that there was no way he could escape whatever plans they had for him.

So he did what he could. Negotiated. Got a place to live with his brother. Got Skip's ensured protection. And then it all came crashing down because of that random burglar.

He told Dino to fuck himself after Griff died. If Max was investigating him… well, if Dino wanted to use him against Max, he'd have to fuck Dino over first. It's what the bastard deserved.

"Shit," said Max. He covered his mouth, as if just realizing he'd sworn in front of Ash.

"I can help with it," Ash said. "I'm—"

"Absolutely not. I was talking college."

Ash highly doubted he'd live to see college. "Why? I'm a good source and—"

"You're a kid."

"I've never been a kid." Ash stood up. "Never had parents. Griff was my parent, and he was fifteen when I was born and twenty when he left. I'll—"

Max folded his arms, adopting a stern expression that had no effect on Ash. "Well, you're a kid _here_."

 _Oh, come off it._ "You can't just—"

"I can so—"

"What are you even investigating him for? His proclivity for young boys or the shady financial—"

Max's eyes bulged. "Ash—"

So he hadn't known about the sex thing, at least not as it related to Dino. Dammit. "See? I'm a useful source."

Max's brow was still furrowed with what he had just said. Ash wished he hadn't mentioned it. "You're a punk kid is what you are. Were you—"

"Well, that should be enough to warn you that maybe I'm not the kind of person you want under your roof." Ash eyed him. _Just say it if you don't want me. I hate this kind of lie. You can't help me and yet you're trying and just tell me that so I can go without any—_

Max shook his head. "But Michael and Jessica like you. Michael's been telling his friends about a new big brother."

 _Huh?_ Ash's mouth fell open.

"I don't need your help with this investigation," Max said. "But if you want to talk, Ash, you could."

The doorbell rang. Both of them stiffened. Ash's pulse sped up.

Max peered out the window. "Oh. One of your friends, it looks like."

 _Shorter?_ Ash dragged himself down the stairs after Max. He heard the door opening.

"Hi," said a voice with a gentle accent blurt out. "I was wondering if this is where Ash Lynx lives?"

 _Ash Lynx? You remembered my name? And why are you the person who's here_? Ash froze.

"Hey, Max!" called another voice.

"Ibe!"

"Ash!" exclaimed Eiji when he appeared behind Max. "I wanted to check and make sure you were okay—and it turns out Ibe-san works with Max, or has—I—"

"His photographs have appeared in some of my articles," Max confirmed. "I didn't know you were taking in an exchange student!"

"Ash." Ash held out his hand towards the older Japanese man.

"Shunichi Ibe," he said. "Nice to meet you."

"Want a drink?" Max invited Ibe in.

"Yes," said Ash.

"Not you!" Max rolled his eyes, but in a friendly way. Eiji stood in the doorway as Ibe followed Max towards the kitchen. Ash jerked his head, heading towards the living room and flopping onto the couch.

Eiji sat, hands folded in his lap. "I asked Ibe-san to drive me here—I wanted to thank you for telling Arthur to stop." His face turned red, and he looked down at his shoes. "I also wanted to apologize."

Ash didn't understand. "For what?"

"For getting you in trouble." Eiji met his gaze. His eyes were huge and swimming with actual guilt.

 _What the hell?_ "Are Japanese people masochists or something?" Ash asked, head lolling back. "It wasn't your fault, Eiji. It was Arthur being a dick because he's like that."

"Well, I still wanted to apologize. I should have been able to stand up for myself, and—"

"You shouldn't have to," Ash cut in. "Don't worry about it. Seriously. I've always wanted the chance to deck him." He smirked.

Eiji smiled. "How do you guys know each other?"

"We both got kicked out of the same prep school when we were thirteen for fighting. In my defense, he called a kid who's like a little brother to me a racist name, so I hit him in the balls." Ash pressed his lips together.

"I have a little sister. We're not that close though. She told me I'd be eaten alive in American high schools because I roll my pants up."

"You do?" Ash sat up. "Oh. That is weird. You can roll them down."

Eiji almost smiled. "I wanted to see whether or not she'd be right."

"Masochist," Ash said again.

Eiji tucked his hair behind his ears. "How did you come up with the name Ash Lynx?"

"You heard my real name; you think I want to advertise myself that way?"

"I think both are nice names." Eiji gulped. "I really just wanted—to apologize. I don't want to burden anyone."

Ash swallowed. _Do you just want a friend here in America? But I'm the last sort of person you'd really want to be friends with._ Murderer. Prostitute. Porn star.

"Apparently you make a habit of defending others," said Eiji. "That's not something I've seen much of. Usually I've seen people having to fend for themselves."

"Well, in that regard, I'd say America's no different than Japan. I just don't happen to like Arthur."

"How did you react so quickly? I barely even noticed and then he jumped—from behind—"

"Practice?" Ash offered. "And unfortunately, I gotta tell you, Arthur's now painted a target on your back. He likes grudges."

Eiji paled.

"Are you gonna be okay with all the homework?" Ash asked. "I mean, since it's a second language."

Eiji nodded. "Literature will be harder, but most of them, yeah."

"Well, if you ever need help, let me know."

Eiji's face brightened like a puppy's.

"Just beat Arthur on every exam."

"Deal." Eiji smiled. "Hey, I could teach you to pole vault. I mean, you seemed like you thought it was cool."

"I couldn't," said Ash. "I'd break my neck."

"Not if you have lots of mats." Eiji leaned forward.

Ash tried to picture himself flying through the sky. He couldn't. "So you were really a big-shot pole vaulter?"

Eiji exhaled. "Yes. Arthur wasn't wrong. I really am—I can't jump anymore, but—I'm too scared now."

"That's weird," said Ash, leaning back. "I mean, you flew across the entire world for high school. That doesn't seem like something a coward would do. Arthur would probably panic in a situation where not everyone spoke his language."

Eiji laughed. Like he was having fun, hanging out with Ash.

Too bad it would never last.

 _Murderer. Prostitute. Thing._

No matter where he went from here—college like Max suggested like a total idealist, prison like Mr. Lee warned, back to Golzine or Japan—those labels were branded into his skin, burns that wouldn't heal, chains that weren't ever going to break.

* * *

Yut-Lung entered his house. Quiet, like he liked it, because it reminded him Hua-Lung was gone for the time being, without a scheduled return date, and he didn't want to worry about monsters in his bed for the first time in his life. His shoes clacked against the wooden floor. He dropped down on the couch. And then he heard a giggle.

A _girl's_ giggle. Yut-Lung stiffened. His eyes narrowed.

Splashing.

Yut-Lung huffed as he got to his feet. He did not approve. Not at all. He marched to the bathroom down the hall, flinging the door open. A woman dressed in a short skirt leaned close to Blanca, who sat in a tub. A bubble bath. _Really?_ Yut-Lung hadn't had one of those since he was three or four.

This called for drastic measures. Alas for Blanca.

"Excuse me?" he gasped.

The lady shrieked.

"How could you do this?" Yut-Lung cried out, clasping his hands to his face. "After you made sweet love to me all last night, you have to turn to a woman now? How cruel!" He doubled over, sobbing crocodile tears. He'd learned how to cry on demand years ago.

"What?" yelped the woman. A slap echoed, and her shoes squeaked on the damp marble floor. Yut-Lung waited until she passed him, and then he stuck his tongue out behind her back.

"That was… not cool," Blanca managed.

"What is cooler, using my family's house as a whorehouse?" Yut-Lung folded his arms.

"She was a smart girl with a good job. Not a prostitute."

"It doesn't matter." Yut-Lung stomped his foot. "I thought you weren't home." _But you were and instead of waiting for me, you were here thinking about your dick. Is that all adults think about?_

Blanca rolled his eyes. "Well, I was here. Though it's not home."

A lump grew in Yut-Lung's throat.

"Turn around," Blanca said. "Please. Or do I have to stay here in this tub forever?"

Yut-Lung scowled, but he obeyed.

"How was school?" Blanca asked, wrapped in a thick terry cloth robe.

"Typical." Yut-Lung shrugged. "Though, it looks like I have some competition for who's taking the most advanced classes. You used to tutor Ash Lynx, right?"

He already knew the answer. Yut-Lung never asked a question to which he didn't know the answer. That was how Yut-Lung heard about Blanca, actually. Golzine had hired him for a tutor for Ash, but then Ash got expelled again and Blanca's wife had died in the months before he tutored Ash anyways, and he took off to the Caribbean for a few years.

"Indeed," Blanca said. "How did you know that?"

"I told you I knew of your reputation when I asked you to tutor me." But Blanca had refused. Of course, Yut-Lung wasn't about to tell Blanca that he had been asking because if he could take his GED and get out of having to attend school under Wang-Lung's watchful eyes, he would. But Blanca offered to stay on as his guardian once Hua-Lung had to leave, and it was a good enough bargain for Yut-Lung.

The doorbell rang. Yut-Lung scowled. "Your lady friend coming back?"

"I'll send her away, Your Highness." Blanca gave a mock bow.

"Good." Yut-Lung trudged into the kitchen and grabbed an apple, biting into it. It tasted too sour. Footsteps echoed behind him. "She gone?"

"It's for you," Blanca said, returning.

Huh? No one ever visited him except—one of his brothers—

 _Shit!_ Had they figured it out? They couldn't know. Yut-Lung dropped the apple in the sink and scrambled towards the keys hanging on a rung by the window. Blanca wouldn't let them bruise him today—he—

Yut-Lung grabbed the key to the safe, so old it might as well be prehistoric, and tossed the key into the garbage disposal. Blanca's eyebrows skyrocketed up his brow.

Yut-Lung cleared his throat and headed out to face—

 _Oh._

Not one of his brothers.

Sing.

"What are you doing here?" Yut-Lung demanded.

"Whoa." Sing held his hands up. "You live _here?_ This looks like a freaking palace." He craned his neck, studying the engraved ceiling.

"Huh?" Yut-Lung tried to fit the pieces together. It didn't work. "Why are—"

"I came to invite you to a party at my place this weekend," said Sing. "But I don't have your number and like, no one does. I think people are afraid of you because you're the principal's brother, but you seemed cool enough earlier today."

 _Cool—enough_? Yut-Lung swallowed. Would Ash be there? Probably. Did it matter?

"Anyways. If you give me your number, I'll text you the address," Sing said.

"How did you know my address?" Yut-Lung managed.

"Google doesn't give phone numbers, but it does give addresses." Sing frowned. "Did that upset you? What are you, part of the Witness Protection Program?"

Yut-Lung shook his head. "No, no, I'm—forgive my rudeness." He'd just never had anyone stop by to visit him before that wasn't his brothers or expecting sex or both. "Do you want to come in? Or a tour?" He hated this house, Hua-Lung's house, but if it impressed Sing—

"Can't. I gotta help Lao with something." Sing scratched the back of his neck. "But I'll see you Friday?"

Yut-Lung nodded. "Sure."

"And tomorrow, I guess. School." Sing waved. "See ya, Yut-Lung."

The door closed behind him. Yut-Lung tried to breathe. He glanced down to make sure his feet were still on the ground.

"He seems nice," Blanca commented. "Friend?"

Yut-Lung didn't know how to respond to that. "Going to lecture me about not drinking?" Because he was sure the party would have alcohol. And wasn't that what parents should do?

"I've seen the wine in your room. At least you'll be with others."

 _Why didn't you clear it out, then?_ Yut-Lung scowled.

"I also have more pressing concerns," said Blanca. "Like why the hell you threw that key down the garbage disposal."

"It doesn't matter."

"Oh, I think it does." Blanca withdrew the key from his pocket. It glinted bronze.

Yut-Lung's eyes widened.

"It's retrievable," Blanca said. "But what could be so important?"

"Just—money—things," Yut-Lung said. Sweat prickled at the back of his neck.

" _Things_." Blanca's eyes darkened. "I'm not going to, say, find evidence that you opened a few new accounts in Switzerland and transferred your brother's money from his Hong Kong account to there, creating a crisis so he might think his business was failing and have to leave for the next few months, am I?"

Yut-Lung's mouth went dry. "How long have you known?"

"I suspected but didn't want to believe you were that stupid."

"It worked!"

"It's still a crime." Blanca glared at him. "What even is this all about? Why would you do such a thing to your own brother?"

The lie came quick. "I just wanted some independence. They're overbearing."

Blanca pulled out his phone, the key clanking against it. "Maybe I'll call Wang-Lung right now."

Fear jolted through him. "You can't!" Yut-Lung grabbed his arm.

Blanca froze.

Yut-Lung's mind hurdled ahead, ripping excuses, reasons, bargaining chips from any drawers. "I'm sorry about earlier with the girl—I just—you can have more over, as many as you want, just don't—"

Blanca wrenched his arm away. "That's not it. I'm just not a fan of being lied to or being played like a fool, Yut-Lung."

He tried to swallow. His breaths came too fast.

"I won't call him," said Blanca. "But you really need to rethink your life." He mumbled something about being way in over his head.

 _For now,_ Yut-Lung thought miserably, watching him head up the stairs. His shoulders slumped. He could almost feel Wang-Lung's hand coming closer and closer, callouses scraping his neck as he threw him down, choked him.

 _If Blanca leaves, who will protect me?_


	3. Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

One week down without a confrontation with Wang-Lung. Yut-Lung should feel relieved, but all he felt was the muscles tightening around his bones, sinews straining like something was crushing him from the inside out. It'd come sooner rather than later. And Blanca was hardly talking to him. He'd leave soon. Yut-Lung knew he would.

He couldn't even enjoy this party. His first party. First high school party. He'd been to plenty of adults-only parties before. No one cared that he was a child, because to them he wasn't a child. Or an adult. Or anything at all.

Laughter echoed all around him. Sing's apartment was small and cramped. Sweat dampened Yut-Lung's neck. The pungent scent of alcohol tinged the air. Yut-Lung studied his beer. He wasn't much of a beer person. He preferred cocktails. Fruity ones.

"More of a wine guy?" asked Sing, watching him.

Yut-Lung jumped. So far, no one was really talking to him. Ash was playing pool at a torn pool table with Shorter. The pool set looked like something Sing had found on the side of the road, which he probably had.

The Japanese boy laughed as he watched Ash. Ash handled the pool stick to Eiji, helping him aim and shoot. Eiji almost took out Shorter's left eye.

"Yeah," Yut-Lung said. "I guess."

Sing sighed. "You helped me with my geometry homework last year, right?"

Yut-Lung nodded.

"Sorry I wasn't super friendly. I had a lot of shit going on then." Sing tipped a beer towards his mouth. "My brother's actually kinda strict."

"But he's letting you drink?" Yut-Lung questioned. He spotted Lao scowling at Ash. A kindred spirit.

Sing smirked. "As long as I don't get drunk."

"Are your parents on vacation?"

Sing snorted. "No. I don't know my dad. Never met him. And he's not Lao's dad, so. And my mom's... wherever. She might show up tonight or she might not. I'd bet on not." He studied the beer. "I think I should stop now or Lao will never let me host another party."

"Oh." Yut-Lung didn't know what to say. "What a killjoy."

"Are you having fun?"

Yut-Lung nodded.

"You don't look it, though. Do you like games, or dancing?" Sing peered up at him.

 _It matters if I'm having fun?_

But he never got to answer, because two others came and laughed, pulling Sing along with them. He waved at Yut-Lung.

Alone. Again. Even in a crowded room.

Blanca hadn't brought up what he'd done to Hua-Lung again, but Yut-Lung knew he was thinking about it. Every day he came home expecting to find Blanca packing his bags and one of his five other brothers with their simpering wives looking down their noses at him before probably beating him to within an inch of his life. If Blanca was gone, no one would help him.

 _Unless…_

If he could get Golzine to take his side, he'd have leverage over his stupid brother. Wang-Lung was too ambitious to want to risk his position with the superintendent. He wanted to be in Golzine's favor, until he could stick the knife in Golzine's back of course.

He could offer sex. He'd heard Golzine liked boys his age. But also boys with blonde hair and green eyes, whereas Yut-Lung had onyx hair and amethyst eyes. He scowled at Ash, who was smiling at the Japanese boy.

It was for the best. He was tired of sleeping in strange rooms, stranger's hands dragging all over his skin, bruises he didn't remember. And he had vowed never to prostitute himself again after Hua-Lung got on that plane. But if it could get him what he wanted… no, _needed_.

 _Well, it can't. Think of another plan._

He _had_ heard that Golzine wasn't entirely pleased that Ash was living with that reporter. If Ash got himself expelled again, maybe they'd take him away, and Golzine could get his claws into Ash again. And that would get Ash out of Yut-Lung's life too, and he might be able to make friends if Ash wasn't around like a dumb lightbulb attracting his moth classmates to him. If Yut-Lung had something to do with it, he could negotiate with Golzine, get the man to keep Wang-Lung away from him.

He tightened his grip on the cup.

"Hey," said a voice behind him. Yut-Lung turned. Shorter pointed at him. "That tattoo real?"

"Hm?" Yut-Lung's hand rose to his neck. He usually covered it with scarves or his hair. "Oh. Yeah."

"Well, it's cool," said Shorter with a shrug. "Did you get it illegally?"

"No, my brothers—we all have it."

"Right," Shorter said slowly. "Because it's the Lee family sigil. I remember now." He gestured towards his drink. "Should probably slow down."

Yut-Lung snorted. "Did your sister freak out when you got that eyebrow piercing?"

"I think she chooses her battles nowadays," Shorter admitted, running his hand through his mohawk. "Fashion choices aren't really her biggest concern. Hey, wait, how do you know I have a sister?"

"My brother told me," Yut-Lung said. "And your fashion choices should be more of a concern. You dress like a hobo." He motioned to Shorter's orange shirt that reached his knees and puffy vest.

Shorter guffawed. "You're sassy. You should come to more of these parties. You're fun."

 _Fun?_ Yut-Lung's eyes widened. _Me_?

"Will your brother kill you, if he finds out?"

He was discussing Wang-Lung. Of course, Wang-Lung was the one who yelled at Yut-Lung when he was twelve years old and vomiting on the floor from what they were going to force him to do, yelled at him to drink more so that he wouldn't care what was done to him, so he wouldn't be able to feel. _"If it bothers you that much!"_

"He won't find out," Yut-Lung said, smirking.

"Still laughing that the holier-than-thou principal got his baby brother a tattoo," Shorter said. "I'm going to think of that every time I see him from now on, thanks."

Would he laugh if he knew Wang-Lung had ordered Hua-Lung to teach Yut-Lung how to please clients, made him practice in front of him, told him if he fucked up he'd kill him? Yut-Lung stared into the amber liquid bubbling in his cup.

He felt so out of place. He wanted to go back to a few seconds earlier, where it seemed like Shorter thought he was cool.

"Though I wouldn't have guessed you were brothers," Shorter said. "You don't look anything alike."

Yut-Lung nodded. "We don't have the same mother." And he looked like her. They tried to used that as a weapon against him, but for Yut-Lung, it was a relief that he looked nothing like those six pigs.

"Oh," said Shorter, his eyes widening. "Sorry."

"Don't be. It's fine."

"You kind of look like Eiji, actually," said Shorter.

"Eiji?" Yut-Lung watched as Eiji turned down a beer. His laugh mingled with Ash's. What right did stupid Eiji have to fit in so well here when he just arrived from a foreign country, and Yut-Lung had been at this school for years and this was still only his first party and he was hanging out in the shadows? "Weird."

Shorter gulped more beer. His third or fourth?

Yut-Lung sensed an opportunity forming. Which kind of sucked, because Shorter had at least seemed to like him. But desperate times called for desperate measures. "So, how did you and Ash meet?"

* * *

"Call your mom tonight!" Ibe hollered as Eiji hurried about, getting ready for school on Monday.

"I called her last night!" Eiji gave Ibe a thumbs up. "I told her I made friends." His dad's health was the same, but she told him not to worry, voice detached like it always was in person.

Ibe smiled, the paper rattling in his hands. "I'm glad. Also glad you didn't drink."

Eiji winced. Hot guilt stung his stomach. "I had a few sips of a rum and Coke…"

Ibe arched his eyebrows.

"I didn't really like it, though," Eiji said quickly. "And Ash stayed with me until I sobered up and got me home." He hung his head. "I'm truly sorry, Ibe-san."

"Well, I didn't notice," said Ibe. "But don't take that as permission to do that again."

Eiji clutched his wrists. "I won't."

"Hey," said Ibe. "It's okay. I mean, there are worse things. And those friends seem to be good for you. It's nice to see you smile again."

Eiji's eyes widened. He nodded. "Thanks, Ibe."

He made it to school and spotted Ash arriving around the same time, waving goodbye to what looked like an elementary school boy. "Who's that?"

"Michael," said Ash. "Foster brother, I guess. Skip said he'd watch out for him."

 _You are so worried for people around you, despite what they say about you_. When Eiji admitted he felt woozy after the rum and coke the other night, Ash had dragged him to the kitchen, given him a glass of water—and then laughed at his low tolerance, but only after Eiji was definitely sober. Everyone flocked around Ash at that party, like he was a king, but the look in his eyes had been hollow and he hadn't laughed until he was playing pool with Shorter and then with Eiji and teasing Alex about a girlfriend. And when he laughed, it was contagious.

Eiji was always observing, watching from the sidelines, playing solo sports launching himself in the sky and falling on his back, alone, but when he was competing, he would hear the shouts around him, feel blood coursing through his body as he ran, muscles tightening in his shoulder, wind whipping across his face. That was living. _I don't know how you do it, Ash._

"Why are you smiling?" Ash asked.

"I don't know," Eiji answered. "I felt like it, I guess." His face flushed.

"Ooh, you had the balls to show your face here," called a voice as they entered the school. "Wasn't expecting that. That's bold, even for you."

 _Huh?_ Eiji spun around. The luminescent lighting was too bright. He shielded his eyes. Arthur leaned back against the lockers.

"Oh, fuck off, Arthur. What are you going on about now?" complained Shorter, approaching Ash and Eiji.

"Ignore him," Ash said, turning to walk away.

"I don't feel like being ignored."

"Too bad."

Arthur stepped in front of them. Eiji ducked, trying to worm his way around the other boy, but it didn't work. Arthur shifted to block him.

Eiji lifted his face. "Excuse me."

Arthur's unbroken hand rose to grip Eiji's chin. "Did you hear the news yet, Samurai Boy?"

 _Huh?_ Eiji cringed. Arthur's fingers felt cold. His other hand dangled, casted and useless.

"Get your hands, oh, excuse me, _hand_ , off him," Ash warned, voice dark.

"Stop sexually harassing Eiji," Shorter said. "We know you can't get laid, Arthur, no need to make it more obvious for all of us."

"Or what?" Arthur asked Ash, ignoring Shorter. "Or you'll murder me like you murdered your baseball coach eight years ago? Only eight years old and already with a first-degree murder charge. Do you keep bodies stashed out back like he did? Are you grooming this Japanese boy as your next victim? Or did you kill him because it got out that he was paying you for sex? They always say you're precocious, but that's a sense I didn't expect—"

 _What?_ Eiji jerked back. Arthur let go, grinning. Like he'd won.

"You make me sick," Shorter said.

 _Huh? That's not true—is it?_ Ash glanced to Eiji, face pale.

"Everyone knows," taunted Arthur.

"Where the—"

"Ask your friend," taunted Arthur. He gestured to Shorter. "Maybe you should drink less next time."

"Shut up!" Eiji burst out. "That's not—Shorter—"

Shorter turned. He took off, the sound of his sneakers slapping against the tiles echoing.

"Ooh, so you can say 'shut up,'" mocked Arthur. "Isn't that a bit mature for—"

Ash curled his fist.

"Gonna fight me again, you slut?"

"Ash, don't!" Eiji cried.

"What the hell is going on?" barked Principal Lee's voice.

"You're accepting murderers in this school now?" asked Arthur. "I—"

Ash turned and ran.

 _"Ash!"_

"Get back here!" bellowed Principal Lee.

Eiji's head swam. He glared at Arthur. "What on earth is your problem?" And then he was running too, running faster than he'd run since his injury.

"You get back here too!" hollered Principal Lee, and Eiji didn't care.

"Let him go," he heard Mr. Jenkins's voice saying.

"Ash!" Eiji shouted, wheeling down the hallway. He spotted Yut-Lung, clutching his throat against one of the lockers, and Sing, wide-eyed. He sped past them. The fire alarm erupted. Eiji stumbled, clapping his hands over his ears. He spotted an emergency exit door flapping. He pushed himself through it. " _Ash!"_

The other boy raced across the grass, heading towards the field. He was fast, but Eiji was faster.

He remembered a hospital room, empty, machines beeping, and no one coming.

Ash finally slowed behind the bleachers on the athletic field. "Go back to class. You'll get in trouble." He kept his back turned.

"No," said Eiji, teeth chattering in the fall air. "This is my problem too."

"Like hell it is."

"Arthur's mad at you because you broke his hand because you were defending me." Eiji paused. "And also because Arthur's Arthur and not you." He took a few steps forward, until he was standing next to Ash. He glanced over at him. Ash's lips were pressed into a thin line, his eyes squeezed shut. In the distance Eiji could hear the chaos from the fire alarm.

He took Ash's arm. Ash didn't jerk away. They sat on the sloped grass, dampness seeping into Eiji's jeans. No one would see them thanks to the bleachers. Neither of them said a word. Ash ripped up a three leaf clover and tore the leaves off. Eiji rested his chin on his knees.

"Are you going to say something?" Ash asked.

"Do you want me to?"

Ash snorted. "I'm not used to people not lecturing me."

"I'm not a teacher."

"Ibe's going to be mad you're playing hooky."

"I don't care." Eiji narrowed his eyes. "Wait, aren't you lecturing me now?"

Ash tilted his head to the side, studying him.

"I don't know if what Arthur said is true or not, but—"

"It's true," Ash cut in. "There weren't charges. But."

Eiji was silent. He remembered the slimed humiliation when Arthur taunted him over his own inadequacy for simply being unable to be an athlete any more. He couldn't imagine someone broadcasting that kind of thing to everyone he knew. "Well, the shame's on him. Arthur, and that coach. Not on you."

"He's dead," said Ash. "The coach. Not Arthur." He tried to smirk, but his lips trembled.

"Ash…"

"I don't feel anything about it," Ash said, even as his voice cracked. "Doesn't that terrify you to hear? Everyone probably thinks I'm out here sobbing in regret, and I'm not. Aren't you scared to be sitting alone with a murderer? I thought it out. I planned it."

 _You want to not feel anything,_ Eiji thought. It was easier to compartmentalize, pretend you felt nothing. He knew that well. Sometimes it was the only way to wake up in the morning.

Not that he had the right to feel that way. "You don't scare me. I relate."

"What?" Ash gaped at him.

"Not the murder, but—not wanting to feel. Feeling anyways, and not feeling at the same time. It's nauseating." Eiji watched some leaves float to the ground. One landed on his shoulder. He brushed it off. "Maybe I shouldn't, but I do."

"I scare myself. I don't feel anything despite the fact that I killed him. I was terrified. I wanted someone to come and no one did, so I killed him, and I—"

"That's not your fault," Eiji interrupted. A leaf landed on Ash's head this time. Eiji brushed it away.

Ash didn't flinch. "I—"

"It's not," he insisted. "You were a child."

"My dad told me to make sure he paid me," Ash said, each word clipped, eyes boring into Eiji's. "After the cops didn't believe me."

 _Good grief._ Eiji couldn't understand. _And you're still here?_ He was pretty sure he would be helpless, unable to function, unable to talk to anyone, unable to even try to learn.

"What?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" Eiji blinked.

"I don't know. I can't read your expression; that's why I asked."

Eiji gulped. "I was just—you're not broken, and that's—I'm afraid to live because of a silly injury and you're still—"

Ash gaped at him.

"You don't scare me," Eiji said again. "I think you're brave."

Ash shook his head, crunching his face. This time tears leaked out. "I'm not."

"I think you are, but you shouldn't be so quick to massacre yourself for the sake of someone else. Let Arthur pick on me; I don't care." The wind whipped by them. Eiji shivered.

"There's a lot more where that came from, Eiji," Ash managed. "Like—things. More things about me it wouldn't be hard for Arthur to dig up. You should find other friends. "

"I don't care."

"How?" Ash asked. "I'm like—telling you I'm a murderer. I killed a man. And I was a prostitute."

Eiji leaned back on his hands. "You've been a friend to me."

Ash shook his head.

 _No one deserves to feel like this,_ Eiji thought. He could still feel it. Depression's gray ghosts, slithering around him.

"I'm a monster." Tears ran down Ash's face. The words came out clipped.

"And—I'm useless," said Eiji. A whisper, a confession. More leaves flew in front of them.

"Bullshit." Ash glared.

"Well, you're not a monster. The coach was the monster, not you. And I don't know why you think you don't feel anything." _You're crying. You're_ still _terrified, aren't you?_

"Thank you," Ash managed.

"I meant it. I think of you as a friend. I don't really have those. Not even back in Japan." Eiji swallowed.

"Weird," Ash commented. "I mean, not you. That just surprises me."

Eiji snorted. Ash almost smiled.

"Do you want a hug?" Eiji asked.

Ash's eyes widened. His gaze darted about. "Sure?"

Eiji wrapped his arms around Ash. He was stiff, at first, and then he let out his breath and relaxed. His arms rose to encircle Eiji.

* * *

" _You're nothing but a venomous snake._ "

Yut-Lung tried to regain his breath. Shorter had grabbed him and thrown him back against the lockers before telling him that and running out of the school. And now they were all stuck outside in a fire drill, and there had never been a fire drill on a sunny warm day because the universe was constantly in a state of PMS. He shivered.

He hadn't expected to see actual tears in Shorter's eyes.

 _I didn't force you to say anything. Just asked some leading questions._

And told Arthur.

Yut-Lung grimaced. Why was it bothering Shorter so much? It was just a—

"Hey." Sing stopped in front of him as they lined up outside by their homerooms, so their teachers could take roll call. He folded his arms, a deep scowl on his face.

"Yeah?"

"What the fuck did you do?" Sing demanded.

 _Shit_. Yut-Lung could tell he wasn't getting off the hook for this one. _Is everyone going to blame me?_ It wasn't fair. It wasn't. "Oh right, I forgot. Shorter's your god even more than Ash is." He tried to sound flippant. "He couldn't have made a mistake or—"

"Did he make a mistake, or did you get him drunk and spread that story?"

"Why would I do that?"

"I mean, what you just said sounded about as jealous as a petty middle school girl." Sing narrowed his eyes.

Yut-Lung's mouth hung open. "I—it's not a big deal; I never thought—"

"Oh, yes you did," Sing said in disgust. "I can tell. You're jealous of Ash and Shorter so you tried to fuck up—"

"I am not!" Yut-Lung shrieked.

The entire crowd quieted. Yut-Lung's face heated.

"Quiet. Being my own flesh and blood doesn't mean you get any special favors. I won't hesitate to give you a detention," Wang-Lung barked from the front.

 _Being your flesh and blood means I'm cursed._

He thought he heard Lao mumble "spoiled" under his breath, and his face burned.

 _It backfired._ Now instead of never having his existence acknowledged, he was hated. And as Ash Lynx and Eiji Okumura jogged towards the crowd and his brother yelled at them but gave no threat of expulsion, Yut-Lung knew that if anything, he'd just alienated any chance of teaming up with Golzine too.

His eyes stung.

He spent the lunch break hiding in the bathroom stall. He couldn't focus on any of his classes, and Mr. Jenkins scolded him in front of everyone for not paying attention.

"Yut-Lung!" Sing chased after him when school ended. "I wasn't done. I—"

Yut-Lung yanked his coat around him and ducked his head, refusing to slow down. He raced home as quickly as he could and tried to make a cup of jasmine tea to calm himself. That's what his mother used to make when she was upset. He'd taken to making it for himself after each new client.

The quiet screamed at him today, instead of being a welcome relief.

But his brain wouldn't even work. Without his plans, he had nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all. And now three drops of water spilled from the kettle onto the counter and there were no paper towels or regular towels because he was incompetent at running his own home because he was incompetent like Wang-Lung always said and he would always be useless and alone alone alone _alone—_

Yut-Lung let out a yell and hurled the teacup at the wall. Boiling water splattered. The teacup shattered.

"A little hysterical?"

 _There you are._ Yut-Lung glared at Blanca. He turned to storm away.

Blanca blocked his path. "Clean it up."

"No."

"You fired most of your staff, so there's no one else here. There's glass all over the floor. That's dangerous."

Yut-Lung felt himself shaking. He gritted his teeth so tightly his jaw cracked. He knelt, hand pricking glass, skin raw in the boiling water, and glared at Blanca as he painstakingly picked up each piece of porcelain.

Blanca rubbed his temples. "Fail a test?"

"No! I'm not stupid!"

"I didn't imply you—"

Yut-Lung sucked in his breath. He'd cut his thumb open. Blood poured down his hand.

"Okay then, you win." Blanca stepped forward, heaving a sigh. "I'll do it. Just wash out your wound and—"

"No." Yut-Lung kept picking up the glass.

"What are you—"

"I don't care!" Yut-Lung screamed at him. "You're just going to up and leave me too, just like everyone else, and—" He realized he was crying. Fuck. He reached his bloody hand up to his eyes, glass coating his fingers. _No matter what. No matter what, no one stays, and it's my brothers' fault even when they're not here._

 _They broke me._

"Oh, _hell_ no!" Something grabbed his wrist, yanking his arm away from his face. A handkerchief, the old-fashioned kind no one except this relic of a human being kept, pressed against his cheeks. "Do not cut yourself."

 _Huh?_ Yut-Lung looked up. "I was going to use my forearm," he croaked out. Shit. Now the tears came faster.

Blanca arched his eyebrows.

"Please don't call Wang-Lung," Yut-Lung managed. "Please. Please. Please." He clenched his fist, driving the glass in deeper. It stung, but if he didn't, he'd start rocking back and forth like some kind of—

Blanca wrapped his arms around him.

 _Huh?_

A hug. Had he ever been hugged?

Not since Mother.

Yut-Lung wilted. He sobbed, soaking Blanca's white shirt.

"Calm down," Blanca said. "Breathe. In through your nose. Out through your mouth."

 _Did Ash ever have a panic attack?_ Yut-Lung wondered. He tried to breathe. The shaking subsided.

Blanca pulled him to his feet, dragging him over to the sink. He turned it on, washing Yut-Lung's hand, water mingling with blood and minuscule daggers of glass. Yut-Lung kept his head high, but his neck ached.

 _Aren't you going to ask?_ It was about to explode out of him anyways. He stifled another sob. "I don't have—any friends. And now—Sing's mad—at me. I'm always—alone."

Blanca focused on his hand. "Didn't you send your brother away?"

"And what? He's the one who took me in when my mother died?" Yut-Lung glared. "Is that what you're thinking?" Anger was a familiar cloak, one that he could rely on to cover himself.

"No. I'm curious as to whether you're going to tell me why you hate him. And I need to use tweezers to get all the glass out. You're lucky you don't need stitches, Your Highness." Blanca led him to the bathroom, where he put ointment on Yut-Lung's hand. "Because then Wang-Lung _would_ have found out, when an emergency room visit showed up on his insurance."

Yut-Lung sucked in his breath. His palm stung. No one had taken care of him like this in years. "I'm sorry." The words sounded foreign. Paper chains, strung together trying to hold him up.

Blanca wrapped a bandage around his hand.

"They say I look like my mom," Yut-Lung said finally. "They call her a whore."

"That's rude of them."

 _You don't get it._ "Hua-Lung said it was in my blood," said Yut-Lung.

Blanca stiffened.

"A disgraceful illegitimate child can come in handy when you need a favor, or political growth, or—a business deal to go through, if they're pretty and androgynous. They found it exciting. Not that I ever saw a penny." Yut-Lung couldn't look at him.

Did it count, if he never saw a penny? Did it stamp him with that label? Did it count for locker room conversations? He was willing to bet he'd slept with more people than all the studs in school combined. Except maybe Ash, now. Did it count, when he looked at himself in a mirror and saw an image that changed with whatever a new person wanted? Was it even him, then, or just his body, inhabited by someone else's desires? "I just wanted him gone."

"Yut-Lung…" Blanca whispered.

His head snapped up. "Don't tell anyone. Please. If you tell anyone, I'll say you're lying. I'll ruin you." The bathroom lights burned his eyes. He didn't care.

Blanca's hands flew up. "You don't have to threaten." He exhaled, studying the even tiles on the floor. "I'm sorry."

 _Sorry? It's not your fault._

 _Please don't leave me_. He swallowed.

"Put shoes on," said Blanca, straightening. "Help me clean the floor, okay?"

Yut-Lung didn't understand.

Blanca pulled him to his feet.

"You're not leaving?"

"I said I'd stay with you until your brother returned. And he might not be returning for a long time, if I have anything to say about it. Or, ever."

Yut-Lung's jaw dropped. "I bullied Ash today. That's why they all hate me."

"Well, that was a poor life decision," said Blanca, heading back towards the kitchen. He handed Yut-Lung a broom.

 _You're still not leaving_. A smile broke through.


	4. A Leopard Can't Change Its Spots

_Failure_.

Shorter cussed as he gulped another beer. It was probably a shitty way of handling things. Drinking got him into this mess. And now he was drinking to deal with it. Or really, to forget it.

He had fuzzy memories of talking to Yut-Lung, but not of what happened afterwards. How did Yut-Lung manage to wheedle that out of him? Was he really so shitty a human being that he'd blurt out his best friend's secret, the one he only knew because they took a road trip to Cape Cod two summers ago and Ash's dad told him, to a snake he barely knew?

When he met Ash, they were both in juvie. And Ash was as standoffish as ever, but Shorter didn't hesitate to tease him about looking like the angel in Nadia's Christmas card. And in some ways Ash was like that angel. Someone he trusted. And now someone he betrayed. Was he really some kind of Judas? H _ow would I have done that? Why? I don't want to be capable of this._

Everyone knew they could rely on him. He had kids looking up to him for that reason. It was one of the few things about him, besides his sense of humor of course, that his parents used to praise about him.

 _"When you have nothing else," his father would say. "You have your integrity. And the people you trust in will trust you."_

 _I failed, Dad._

Shame pressed into his shoulders. And then a hand joined, squeezing his shoulder.

Shorter whirled around.

"Chill," said Ash, dropping down onto the stool next to him. Eiji delicately pulled out a stool behind Ash, sitting. "Knew you'd be here."

Shorter's grip tightened around the mug. His jaw tightened. Even if he had words to say, he didn't know if he could fling them into reality. His body seemed to be trying to imprison him from the inside, bones and muscles injected with guilt, stiffening like armor.

"It's not your fault," Ash said.

 _Huh?_ Shorter tried to force his jaw open. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I really don't blame you."

"You should."

"Why?" asked Ash.

Shorter spun the beer bottle, now empty. It toppled after catching on a snag in the wood. "I don't even remember what happened," Shorter said. "I have no idea why I would have—" _Except that I'm a shithead friend and—_

 _What else do I even have?_ He had terrible grades, a sister struggling to make ends meet, two urns containing his parents, and his own public defender had told him, after his arrest, that he had ruined his own life. _This type of thing's not easy to seal away._ And he could only laugh at the man, beaten down by kids like him. _This is the one who's supposed to defend me?_

All he had, all he really had, were the people he could be friends with, the ones he ones he didn't have to struggle with to survive.

"Doesn't really matter," said Ash, wincing at the terrible music blaring. "Nothing that Arthur said isn't true."

" _Everything_ Arthur said isn't true," Eiji interrupted.

Both of them turned to stare at him.

"He was trying to reduce you to something like that," said Eiji. "But you can't be reduced to that. Just like Shorter shouldn't be reduced to one drunken mistake, or—"

"Or you shouldn't be evaluating your worth based on a shattered ankle?" Ash scoffed.

"It's easy for you to say," said Shorter, studying the bottle, swirling it around as if there was still liquid inside. But there wasn't.

"My ankle's fine now," said Eiji. "I could jump. Except I can't. Because I'm a coward. It's a mental thing, or so they say." He leaned back. "Neither of you are cowards."

"I never thought I was that pathetic," Shorter said. His fingers traced a dark stain on the wood of the bar. "To tell someone I don't even know—"

"Didn't one of the Lee brothers used to employ your parents?" asked Ash. "I understand, Shorter. I really do. I don't—"

He pulled his sunglasses off. "They want you to be expelled. For some reason." He met Ash's eyes. "That's obvious."

"Then I'm going to need friends," said Ash.

 _Still._

 _But I blew it._

 _And you're forgiving me?_ "I hate you," said Shorter. "Stupid angel."

Ash smirked.

"Excuse me," interrupted the bartender. "May I see ID?"

Ash handed over his fake ID. Eiji paled. "I don't have one. I'm from Japan."

 _Uh-oh._ Shorter stiffened.

The bartender suddenly studied Ash's closer. He narrowed his eyes.

"Whoops," said Shorter. He snatched the ID straight out of the bartender's hand. Ash grabbed Eiji.

"Hey!" bellowed the bartender.

They dashed out the door, almost trampling some poor man heading in. "Sorry!" Eiji yelped, swerving out of the way.

"We need to get you a fake ID," Shorter panted, clapping Eiji on the shoulder.

Eiji's mouth fell open in horror. Ash doubled over as they reached the end of the block, laughing.

"Nadia's going to kill me," Shorter complained when they approached his apartment. Playing hooky definitely wasn't good for his probation. But—

"Definitely," Ash concurred. Eiji frowned.

Shorter stalled as they headed up the stairs to the cramped apartment above Chang Dai, the restaurant his sister ran. The smell of garlic and leeks filled the air. "Oh, shit. Looks like it'll be a triple funeral."

"Huh?" Eiji paused.

The sound of multiple voices filled the air. Nadia's, and for some reason the police officer from their school. Charlie's. And Max's. And Ibe's.

"Oh no," whispered Eiji.

Ash didn't look fazed. And then another woman's voice. Jessica's. Ash's face suddenly paled.

"Eiji, please go first," requested Shorter. "Shield us."

"Huh?" Eiji looked as if he wanted to melt into the railing.

Ash groaned. He stomped up towards the door, pushing it open. The five adults sat on the worn plaid couch and in the rickety chairs in their living area. All heads swiveled to stare at them.

"Hi Ibe," croaked out Eiji.

"We didn't skip school," Ash said instantly.

Shorter had, but he didn't really know what to say. He stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Shorter," Charlie said in relief. "We were worried. I contacted your sister and—"

Nadia shoved her chair back, rushing towards him. Shorter flinched. She grabbed him.

Not in a slap or to shake him, but in a hug.

 _Huh?_

 _Did I really scare you?_

 _I always scare you, don't I?_

Everyone else filed out. "I'll call you later?" Charlie said.

Nadia nodded.

"I'll text you," Shorter mumbled to Ash and to Eiji. He liked that Japanese kid.

Footsteps clumped down the stairs. They were alone, and the sunset leaked tangerine and beet through the tiny window.

"Do you want dinner?" Nadia asked.

"How spicy did you make it?" And would he be sweating and gasping when she started in on the lecture?

"Enough to make you suffer." She smirked.

Shorter rolled his eyes. He followed her towards the cabinets, helping spoon the soup into bowls. She was quiet. "I didn't mean to worry you," he said finally.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Nadia dried two spoons.

Shorter cringed. "I fucked up."

"I gathered."

"I—" Shorter covered his eyes and dropped down at the kitchen table. "No. I don't want to talk about it." Humiliation crawled through him. Even if Ash said it was okay, was it? Was it really? Or would Ash now have a niggling down in the back of his mind every time he turned to Shorter?

Somehow, he knew he wouldn't, and that almost made him want to hide more. "I was stupid."

"It sounds like there are some bullies at your school," said Nadia, pouring two glasses of milk. "I gave that cop an earful. He should be doing more to stop it. They all should be. But instead they're letting gangs and bullies run the show." She slammed the glasses down on the table.

 _You're mad for me, not at me?_ Shorter pulled off his sunglasses again. "You yelled at Charlie?"

"It wasn't yelling. I just told him what I thought." Nadia took a sip of soup. Her lips puckered. She scrambled to grab her glass of milk, chugging it. He laughed.

"I got drunk and fucked up," Shorter said. "On Friday. I said some things about Ash to someone who wasn't trustworthy. That I shouldn't have."

"I heard that much." Nadia tilted her head. "Ash went after you, though."

"Yeah…"

"He thinks of you like a brother, Shorter. I know that. You forgive brothers when they fuck up."

"Or you poison their soup." Shorter gestured. "Really, how much chili did you put in it, sis?"

Nadia cringed, gesturing with her spoon. "How about helping me remake it? Since neither of us are going to eat this."

"I'm sorry for worrying you," Shorter muttered.

She frowned, taking the soup to the sink. "I just wanted to make sure you would be okay."

"I feel like all I do is burden you."

Nadia dropped the bowls with a clatter. Her eyes bulged.

Great, now he was making it worse. "You really don't need to worry about me. I know that you're only a few years older than me and yet you have to take care of me, and so I—"

"That isn't it at all," Nadia burst out. She gaped at him like he'd slapped her.

Of course he was failing now too. Shit. His father was probably clucking his tongue up in heaven.

"I just—I want you to be—happy, Shorter. You're my little brother. I just want you to be okay. I want you to live the best life. I don't want you in prison not because it's a burden to me but because I'm worried about you—because I don't want to lose anyone el—" She cut herself off, hand clasped over her mouth.

 _You miss them_. His sister was running her own business, raising him, at an age where she should still be out with friends. "I—"

"Don't ever think," said Nadia, crouching in front of him and taking his hands in hers. "That you're a burden. You're the best part of my life. My restaurant, cooking, all of that—you're my baby brother even if you're a foot taller than me now. You make me happier than any of that." Her eyes shone.

 _The best part?_ Shorter gaped at her. His eyes stung. _That can't be true, right?_

But Nadia never lied.

He wrapped her in a hug, dropping his head to her shoulder. She rubbed his back, like Mom used to after he had a nightmare. "I'm—really proud of you."

She snorted.

"You should make sure you have a life outside of me, though."

"I do. I cook. I run a business. And I date."

"You do?" Shorter suddenly remembered where he stored his pocketknife collection.

"Mm." She smirked and handed him a cutting board of vegetables to chop up. "On Friday. I have a date."

A horrible feeling settled in Shorter's stomach. "With whom?"

"The cop from your school. Charlie Dickenson. He seems like he has a good heart. And he's cute."

 _I will take the spicy soup over this kind of torture_.

 _The school cop is taking my sister on a date,_ Shorter texted.

 _You're fucked,_ came Ash's response.

* * *

"Text you later," Eiji mumbled. Ash nodded. He hoped he hadn't gotten Eiji in too much trouble. But Eiji was sixteen and more than capable of making his own decisions. Yet he seemed so innocent sometimes.

He had definitely not expected to see Max and Jessica at Nadia's. Jessica's eyes were blue flames, and Ash had a feeling he was about to get burned.

"Did Nadia call you?" he finally asked.

"Yeah," Jessica confirmed.

"I just wanted to make sure Shorter was okay," Ash said.

"You caused a fire alarm at your school. Charlie said they couldn't prove it, but it was obvious," said Max.

 _You're upset about_ that? "Whoops." In the grand scheme of things, Ash truly did not care. Did they really expect him to just stand there in that hallway, other students milling about, whispering? He'd had his fill of that. All the people at the grocery store and the post office and the diner whispering about the prostitute murderer eight-year-old was why his father sent him away.

" _He's being bullied in school for it."_

 _No, Dad,_ you _were being bullied for it._

But Eiji didn't run away. He ran after him. He walked back into the school right by Ash's side.

 _I don't understand why you would want to hang around with me._ Was it only because Ash had defended him that day? Did that really mean so much to him? How could he not have been scared by the fact that Ash then broke Arthur's fingers? But he really wasn't scared. They talked. He laughed easily. He was awkward and asked strange questions, pronounced words in odd ways, asked Ash for help on his homework. And yet he didn't seem like he was getting much out of it.

"Michael's at my sister's," Jessica said when they got home. "Want to talk about it?"

"No, old lady."

"Call me that again, I dare you."

"Old lady." He tilted his head back. She rolled her eyes.

Max groaned. "I'll pick up Michael." The door closed behind him.

"Look," said Jessica, getting right down to business. "George is worried. He doesn't want you to go back to juvie, so—"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because he cares about you?"

Ash arched an eyebrow at her. "I really don't know how to translate that." He dropped onto the kitchen table, swinging his legs because he knew it would irritate Jessica. "I'm his _case_."

His father said he cared, and he sent him away. His brother cared, and he was dead. Dino said he cared, and he left bruises up and down Ash's body, ink he couldn't wash away.

Eiji acted like he cared. So did Shorter. Ash rested his chin on his fist. But they were his age. Not like George.

"You're a kid whose case he handles."

"Why would he care?" Ash asked, looking up at Jessica. "Because I'm smart?" He knew George wasn't like Dino, caring because of his looks. Max and Jessica cared because he was Griff's brother, right?

Jessica grabbed a package of ground beef and started mashing it into burgers. "Help me."

Ash considered refusing. But no. He got to his feet, shuffling over.

"You know," said Jessica. "Max and I started dating soon after he got back from Iraq and got married because of Michael. But we broke up soon after I had him. Kids are great, but they're tiring."

"Yeah. I know. I was too tiring for my mother even as just a three day old infant so the bitch split town. Why are you telling me this?"

Jessica handed him some meat. "Hit hard."

"Fine." Ash hated the sight of blood. Or rather, he hated that it didn't bother him.

"While we broke up, someone Max had done a story on who didn't come out looking so favorable broke into our apartment. Or my apartment, since I'd kicked him out. He assaulted me." She smacked the meat. Crimson droplets flew.

Ash froze, meat cold against his hand.

"He's dead now. Got killed in prison. I'm glad, too. But prison's dangerous. And people _do_ talk, because they're dumbasses." Jessica's hair swung down her back. "Fuckwads who do something like that can all suck a dick. It sucks, having your personal business known all over, the pitying looks that are really just begging for details."

Ash snorted. Jessica's potty mouth would forever be the bane of Max's existence.

"Your father can get fucked, too," Jessica added. "Max said he'd punch anyone who said anything or made me uncomfortable. He never needed to. I told off two of them myself." She took the patty away from Ash to finish it.

Ash's throat tightened. "Shorter didn't mean to. It wasn't his fault."

"I know. But bullies don't ever grow up, a lot of the time. Having someone to lean on helped me." Jessica set the patty aside. "You and that Japanese kid seem pretty close. And there's Shorter too, of course. That's good."

 _Good_. Huh. He wasn't used to anyone referring to anything he did that he also liked as _good_.

"And Michael was still so young, and he needed me. Kids are a lot of work, but they're not a burden."

"I'm not your kid."

"You're sixteen and legally, you are at the moment."

Ash's eyes widened. _You're really saying I'm not a burden_.

"You should know," said Jessica, rinsing the blood off her hands. "Even if Max and I probably won't agree with a lot of your decisions, and we might ground you sometime—and yes, I can lock you in your room, don't test me—we're not going to disagree with you as a person. Even if you got sent back to juvie, we'd visit you."

Something hot prickled inside of him. "I don't want to go back to juvie."

"Good."

"I want to be—free," said Ash. He thought of Eiji. He was free. He could travel the world, and of all the things he could do, he was choosing to hang around Ash? _I can't possibly be worth that much_. "Being locked up drives me crazy. But it's still better than living with other people I've lived with." That's another kind of prison, a kind he still wasn't free of and couldn't be, not unless he dropped out of school or died, really, because even if he dropped out Golzine would find him. And if Max was seriously going to investigate Golzine, he was a risk to this family. A child born out of an ill-conceived summer fling that broke apart Griff's mother and father, a burden to his mother from the start, a toxin for families. "Not Griffin. He was a good brother."

But when he tried to save Griffin, he wound up shot. Ash was a terrible brother, capable only of burning everything around him.

 _Eiji, you'll get burned. Jessica, Max, Michael…_

"You know, George asked Max and I to take you in before we knew Griffin was your brother," Jessica said. "We wanted to, but we were worried. When we heard, we decided our worries were things we'd figure out."

"What?" Ash hadn't expected to hear that. He pressed his lips together. _Before_? "Was it because he wanted a source on Golzine?" But it had seemed like Max was truly surprised...

"I don't know very much about Max's current investigation, but no."

"You can't protect me. He should be worrying about you and Michael—"

"And _you_ , idiot," snapped Jessica. "How many people have even tried, Ash? Besides Griffin? Let George and Max and I try."

 _Try_.

 _I have no idea how to do that._

* * *

"Everything seems to have worked out okay," Lao said, watching Ash, Eiji, and Shorter all arrive together the next morning.

Sing exhaled, slamming his locker shut. "Good."

"Look who else is here." Lao nodded over his shoulder. Yut-Lung hurried past, scarf pulled up over his chin. He noticed Lao watching and ducked his head, refusing to look at Sing.

"You don't have to make him feel awkward," countered Sing.

Lao rolled his eyes. "Well, at least now you'll see that he's just trouble."

 _Do not punch your brother do not punch your brother do not punch your brother_. "I'm sixteen, Lao. I can take care of myself." Lao spent way too much time fretting over Sing when they were just a year apart. Lao liked Shorter well enough, but then it was Ash he thought was a bad influence when Sing wanted to seek him out for some advice, and then it was Yut-Lung after Sing insisted on inviting him to the party. _Can't you see he's just Ash but without any of the appeal?_

" _I don't want to say I told you so," Lao had said yesterday after he told Yut-Lung off. "But I told you so. And now he hurt Shorter, and Shorter's our friend. And I knew that Ash was trouble. A hooker and a murderer at eight?"_

" _You don't even know if it's true!"_

" _Doesn't matter!"_

" _Well, exactly!" Sing shot back. An eight year old couldn't be responsible for something like that._

Then again, he and Lao had been on their own more or less since he was about eight. His mother checked in only every now and then.

"I know," said Lao. "Of course you can."

 _Bullshit. I'm my own responsibility, dammit_. Sing tried to catch Shorter's eye. He finally spotted him and waved.

Really, Nadia and Shorter were more their parents than their mother, even though Shorter was Sing's age and younger than Lao. Nadia brought them food when she made too much. And Shorter taught Sing how to drive. Illegally but whatever, he'd never been caught. And he was impressed with Sing's dragon fang.

"Hey," said Ash.

"Hey," Sing said. Lao looked as if he had stuffed an entire lemon in his mouth and was choking on it. "Good to see you all back."

Eiji Okumura smiled.

"Arthur's not going to take kindly to people hanging around me," Ash said.

"Don't care," said Sing with a shrug. Shorter grinned, eyes widening as if he was impressed with Sing. Sing straightened.

"Excuse me," interrupted a voice behind them.

And just like that, all optimism drained from Sing. He turned, slowly.

Yut-Lung stood there, wringing his hands. He studied his designer shoes, and then forced his gaze up to meet Shorter's. "I want to apologize. Wheedling that out of you was… not cool, and Ash, I should not have spread it. Will you forgive me?" He swallowed.

"Spread it?" asked Shorter. "You told Arthur, or more people?"

Yut-Lung hung his head.

"So, you were _planning_ on it all along?" Shorter burst out. "It wasn't a—drunken mistake you made too?"

Yut-Lun shook his head. "I wasn't drunk; I—"

"Fine," said Ash. "Now leave me alone."

"I'm asking for your forgiveness." He sounded so formal.

Ash's eyes were huge. "No," Ash said. "I don't forgive you. Who knows what you'll tell Arthur next?"

Yut-Lung flinched. Sing's heart pounded. But instead of throwing a hissy fit, Yut-Lung merely nodded, clenched his fists, and stalked off.

"I can't believe he planned that," Shorter whispered. "That's… pathological."

Lao jabbed Sing in the ribs. Sing stomped on his foot. "Ow!"

The bell rang. They all scattered to homeroom. Sing hesitated.

Oh, fuck it. Lao wasn't even in his homeroom. He ducked into the restroom. Sure enough, he heard the sound of muffled sobs coming from the stall at the end. Sing leaned back against one of the sinks. The sobs turned into violent sniffs, as if he was trying to stifle them but failing.

"Are you going to come out, or do I have to come in?"

A broken sob.

Sing sighed. "I'm not going to yell at you."

A pause. The door unlocked and swung open. "Why not?" Yut-Lung asked, eyes red and nose swollen.

"Are you really so upset you're crying?"

"Sorry I'm as girly as I look."

"I didn't insult your femininity. Or masculinity."

Yut-Lung slumped back against the wall. "You have the right to be mad at me. They all do."

 _But you were still hoping for something different._

 _You're that lonely?_

Yut-Lung's shoulders hunched around him. Sing stepped closer, and Yut-Lung's head snapped up, a glare flaring on his face.

 _Whoa, okay._ "Well, then, if they don't want to forgive you, you'll just have to make it up to them."

"Huh?" The glare dropped. Yut-Lung wiped his eyes. A bandage covered his hand.

"Make it up to them."

"How?"

"I dunno yet, but we all know Arthur isn't the type to let sleeping lynxes lie." Sing smirked at his pun while Yut-Lung rolled his eyes. "He'll be plotting."

"If he has the brain cells," Yut-Lung offered.

Sing snorted. _See? You can be funny_. "Well, you're 'gifted' right? So you definitely do. Hell, I'll help you."

"As a way to get closer to Ash?"

"You say it like I have a crush on him."

Yut-Lung folded his arms. "I've wondered."

"I don't! I just—admire him, is all!" He got to do what he wanted, more or less, without an older brother breathing down his neck every second. "And it'd be a way to help you, dummy. Because you're acting like an asshole but you also seem genuinely cool sometimes."

"Plotting a coup against a school bully, how cool." Yut-Lung reconsidered. "I guess that does sound interesting."

Sing laughed. "Also, it's a way to get away from Lao. He's a bit—overprotective."

"I see." Yut-Lung tapped his chin. "If you want to come over today, you could. He's not invited."

"I can't. I have to help Nadia at the restaurant. But I can come tomorrow for sure."

Yut-Lung's eyes lit up. It was almost adorable.

Sing held out his hand. Yut-Lung shook it. His fingers were soft.

The bell rang.

"Christ," complained Sing. "We're late."


	5. Scapegoat

"Your house is insane," Sing said again. "Like, who lives like this? I'd never leave."

"It's not all it's cracked up to be," Yut-Lung said, watching as Sing walked around his living area, checking out the carved furniture, the drapes, the ink art pieces.

Sing snorted. "Sounds like something a rich person would say."

 _It's hell._ But Yut-Lung didn't want to ruin the dizzy smile on Sing's face. "Do you want something to eat? Or drink?" He'd begged Blanca to buy three different kinds of chips, dips, all sorts of fruits and candies. He had no idea what Sing liked. Or what was normal when friends come over. He'd never had one before.

"Sure," said Sing. His eyes popped out when Yut-Lung rambled off a list of choices.

 _Great, now he thinks I'm even more spoiled_.

"Did you get all this to impress me?" Sing asked.

 _Shit_! Yut-Lung's tongue failed him, perhaps for the first time in his life.

"Wait, really?" Sing asked, rubbing the back of his head. "The house wasn't enough?"

"I—" Yut-Lung shrugged. "I don't—I've never had someone—come over before." There, now Sing knew how pathetic he was.

But instead of laughing, Sing's brow just furrowed. "For real?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Nope. And apples are good," Sing said, grabbing a pink one and biting into it. "That's pretty shitty. Is it because of your brothers?"

"You could say that." Yut-Lung grabbed a packet of almonds. He didn't want to get into this anymore.

"I never invite people over casually either," Sing admitted. "The party was—Lao lost a bet, so he had to agree. But for the opposite reasons. We don't exactly live in an impressive space."

Yut-Lung blinked. Sing wasn't laughing at him? Or thinking he was weird? He gestured for Sing to sit at the island in the kitchen.

"I wanted to impress people with that party," Sing said, scowling at the marble countertop. "Instead..."

 _You wanted to impress Shorter and Ash, and I ruined things_. "I'm sorry." Yut-Lung bit down on an almond.

"You don't have to keep apologizing," said Sing, stealing one of his almonds and tossing it up in the air, catching it in his mouth. He reconsidered, and sent something flying out from his glove to grab himself a packet of almonds.

"What the hell is that?" Yut-Lung yelped.

Sing grinned. He took off the glove. "I call it dragon fang."

"How very impressive."

"Shut up. I invented it. It's got a blade on the end." Sing showed it to him. "See? It helped me shoplift candy when I was in middle school. Lao used to never buy it and I wanted it. Granted, we couldn't've afforded it."

"So you invented this?" Yut-Lung held it up to the light, inspecting it.

"Well, yeah."

Yut-Lung handed it back to Sing. "You should be an engineer." He couldn't imagine making such a thing. _I guess you've been fighting, too._

Sing laughed. "College is a pipe dream."

Footsteps echoed. Blanca appeared. He nodded at them, waving.

"Who the fuck is that?" hissed Sing. "I mean, I know he's your guardian, but he looks like a freaking bodyguard or Hagrid's son."

Yut-Lung dissolved into a flurry of giggles. He would have to tell Blanca that one. "He's a tutor. I—negotiated to get him to sign up to help me, because I want to take my SATs this spring and I wanted even higher grades."

"Negotiated," Sing said slowly.

Yut-Lung's face reddened. "Information is useful."

"It is," Sing agreed. "How did you hear about him?"

"So we're both trying to get information from each other," said Yut-Lung.

"Yep," admitted Sing.

"He's Ash's old tutor," said Yut-Lung. "When Ash was—in a different school." Hired by Golzine, but he wouldn't tell Sing that. "That's how I knew about—Ash's thing. Not from Blanca, that's his name, he would never say something like that. But Hua-Lung, the brother I was staying with before, and—Ash's old guardian talk. And he's the best." And Hua-Lung kept joking about how he was a former assassin, about how he should hire him to teach Yut-Lung to kill properly, and the idea that they were about to build from prostitution to seduction and assassination was too much for Yut-Lung, and he kept seeing his mother's face flashing through his mind.

 _"Why did he leave Ash?" asked Yut-Lung._

 _"That hellcat must've showed his claws too many times. Probably not being paid enough to make it worth it." Hua-Lung snorted, rattling his newspaper._

 _"Why don't we try to hire him to teach me?" Yut-Lung asked, voice silky like how Hua-Lung liked it._

It only took a few days and a few refusals for Yut-Lung to realize that why Blanca left Ash clearly had nothing to do with hating Ash, and everything to do with the past Yut-Lung was relentlessly researching. _You care about him. You just are convinced he'll lose everything like you._

 _I have nothing to lose except myself. Please don't leave me. Please keep me safe._

 _You'll stay, won't you?_

"So you and Ash even have the same tutor?" Sing asked, slipping his glove back on. "You hate him because you're like him, don't you?"

"I don't hate him!"

"You're the same person."

"Hey!" Yut-Lung glared at him.

Sing tossed an almond off Yut-Lung's head. Yut-Lung's mouth fell open, and Sing tossed one into his mouth. He almost choked. When he finished coughing, he saw Sing smirking at him. Yut-Lung hurled some almonds at him.

"Yikes!" Sing ducked. They both laughed. It sounded nice. Yut-Lung's chest felt light and free. "So anyways. Let's think about Arthur. I want him to go down, and we all know he's going to do something stupid."

"No kidding," Yut-Lung agreed. Truthfully, Arthur reminded Yut-Lung of Sing's brother, Lao, but without any of the sentiment Lao had and with only sadistic bitchiness underneath a crackling, fragile masculinity.

"Are you prepared to wait and then seize the opportunity?" Sing suggested.

"Why are you helping me?" Yut-Lung asked. _Is it all just to impress your crush... or crushes?_ The jury was still out on Sing's feelings for Shorter.

Sing scratched his head. "Because you're cool? I think Ash and Shorter and Eiji would like you, too. Also, it takes guts to stand up to Arthur, and with your brother at the helm of this shit school too, well, it's kinda cool that you even apologized to Ash and the others. You could get away with anything and you don't want to."

"Well, I couldn't," Yut-Lung said. "My brother hates me."

"I think he hates everyone under 18."

"I think he just hates everyone except himself," Yut-Lung countered.

"Well, whatever," Sing said. "I just think you're cool? Isn't that good enough?"

A lump grew in Yut-Lung's throat. He nodded.

 _Okay._

 _I'll trust you, and your plan._

* * *

"Eiji Okumura, report to the principal's office."

 _Again? Why?_ His neck burned.

"Ooooooh," chorused his classmates. Sing winced, giving Eiji a small thumbs-up of solidarity. Jenkins attempted to give him a reassuring smile. It didn't work.

Eiji collected his books and headed down the hallway. It had been over a month now since he'd arrived here, and things seemed to be settling down. Arthur still lurked in the shadows, a snide comment here and there, but nothing intense. He was passing all of his classes, doing well, even. And he and Ash and Shorter continued to hang out, Sing sometimes with them and sometimes not.

It was nice to have friends. In Japan he returned home, studied, went to the hospital to visit his father, studied, slept. After his injury, that is.

When he was injured, his mother wasn't able to come to the hospital with him. His dad was too ill. Eiji didn't blame her. But he remembered lying there in the emergency room, hearing beeping all around him and the odor of rubbing alcohol filling his nostrils, ankle throbbing with each breath, and knowing how worried she would be when she was supposed to be focused on his father. He was just a burden. And he'd created even more of one when then the one thing she could be proud of—his jumping—he couldn't do any more, because he didn't want to worry her by breaking himself again but then she couldn't have the respite she was used to even if she'd seldom attended his games, and then he worried that he might have done better if she'd been there, and then he hated himself for that, and on and on and on and on it went, a carousel beating him with gummy blame that he couldn't wipe off.

"You can go right in, dear," said the secretary, pushing her glasses up her nose.

Eiji gripped the strap to his bag as he pushed the door open. His phone buzzed in his pocket. Sing had probably texted Shorter who was probably group-texting him and Ash demanding to know what Eiji had done.

"Ah, Eiji Okumura," said Principal Lee, rising from behind his desk. A painting of a peacock hung between the two windows on other side of the desk. "We meet again."

He wasn't alone. Also in the room sat an older man, bald, with eyes like a green swamp and a suit that looked to rival Principal Lee's in expense and prestige.

"Have a seat," said Principal Lee, gesturing.

 _Who is this?_ Eiji gulped. He slipped into the chair across from the desk. "Is something the matter?"

"Not at all," said Principal Lee. "This is Dino Golzine. He's the school's superintendent, here to visit and talk to students. He wanted to meet our exchange student."

"Oh." Something about the man's gaze made Eiji uncomfortable. He shifted, hot and cold prickling in his stomach. "Nice to meet you."

"And you." Mr. Golzine's hand felt like paper, dry and strange. "How are you liking it so far?"

"It's nice," Eiji stuttered. "I'm—doing well in my classes—"

"How do they compare to classes in Japan?"

"They're good. I mean, it's in English, but I have friends to help me if I get confused." He clutched his knees.

"Social life treating you well?" Mr. Golzine clucked his tongue. "I heard there was an incident that first day."

"Uh, yes, but it all—it's been resolved," Eii said quickly. "And yes. I have friends. Shorter Wong and Ash Lynx—Ash Callenreese."

"Hm." Mr. Golzine rubbed his chin, smiling. "Ash is a smart kid."

"He is," Eiji agreed. He still couldn't figure out why his skin felt like an army of ants was running up and down his spine.

"A bit of a troublemaker."

"Not that I've seen," Eiji said. "I mean, besides the initial—and the fire alarm—but none of those things were really his fault."

"Indeed. I'm glad to hear Mr. Lee is doing such a wonderful job of handling bullies, and I do apologize for what you had to experience. And on your very first day. You must be a brave boy not to have gotten back on a plan."

"Bullying exists in Japan, too," Eiji said with a nervous laugh.

"Indeed." Mr. Golzine nodded. "I'd love to talk to you again towards the end of your time here. See your review of your time and experience with us. I apologize for not being able to make your acquaintance earlier."

"Oh." Eiji nodded. "Okay." _Is that seriously it?_

"I was traveling, but I've returned. Mr. Lee and the other principals and I are hoping to host a gathering for those who make the honor roll, and for otherwise gifted students," said Mr. Golzine. "At the end of the month. Won't you join us?"

 _Is the only thing special about me that I have a different passport_? "Sure."

"Wonderful. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to contact us," added Mr. Golzine. He handed Eiji a card with his number and email on it.

Eiji thanked him, and scuttled back to class. He was halfway down the hallway when a hand landed on his shoulder. Eiji yelped.

"Shh!" Ash hissed.

"Oh my God," said Eiji. "I take it back. You do scare me. When you do _that_."

Ash didn't look amused. He gulped. "You didn't answer our texts."

"I was in the office by the time they arrived."

Ash swallowed. He studied his shoes. "Who did you meet?"

"Dino Golzine. He gave me the creeps." Eiji watched as the color in Ash's face drained. "He invited me to a celebration in a couple weeks, for students who make the honor roll and—just because I'm an exchange student—"

"Nothing else?" Ash asked, chest heaving.

Eiji shook his head.

Ash swore. He pressed his fist over his mouth. "Sorry. I just got—I—"

Eiji's mind was starting to form a pretty good idea of why Ash was terrified of Dino, and mixed with his slimy presence, nausea surged. "Are you okay?"

Ash nodded.

"Are you playing hooky?"

"I'm taking a very long bathroom break."

Eiji snorted. He took a step and frowned. "What's that?" An acrid smell tinged the air.

"Someone's probably lighting up in the bathroom," Ash observed. "Let's get back before they think it's us."

The fire alarm screamed right above their heads. Eiji clamped his hands over his ears. The two of them rushed for the stairwell.

To find smoke wafting up. Actual smoke. Eiji froze.

"Back!" Ash yanked him into the hallway, now filling with students. "This stairwell's on fire!"

The other stairwell was, thankfully, free of fire. They poured out into the rain, shivering.

"Shit day for a fire drill," complained Shorter when he found them.

"It wasn't a drill," Ash said. "The left stairwell's on fire."

"The fuck?" Shorter's eyes popped. Alex and Bones jogged over, Bones dramatizing how he was about to suffocate from the smoke. Eiji spotted Cain Blood ignoring Mr. Kippard's lecture about lining up, and Lao scowling a few feet from Sing, who was standing next to Yut-Lung. Yut-Lung's glossy hair swam through the air like a snake in the wind. Mr. Golzine stood under an umbrella by the entrance, shaking his head. Principal Lee looked as if he was about to have a conniption, face swelling purple.

Sirens wailed. Blue and red flashed over them as firefighters rushed inside. Eiji overheard Charlie telling Jenkins that it had started in one of the empty offices on the second floor. And he heard something else: "some kind of accelerant…"

"What on earth?" Eiji squeaked.

"That's fucking wild," Shorter said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ash pressed his lips together.

"And just as the superintendent is visiting, too," commented Alex. "Someone either really hates Mr. Lee or…" His voice trailed off.

A sinking feeling surrounded Eiji. Ash squeezed his shoulder. He looked up at him, both of them drenched in rain. Ash shrugged as if to say it was all the comfort he was able to give.

An hour later, and they were all sent back inside, most of them shivering. It took until five minutes before lunchtime for Mr. Kippard, the political science teacher, to call his name.

"Eiji Okumura. Principal's office."

 _Again._

* * *

Everyone who was outside of class when the alarm went off gathered in the office. The secretary fussed and set down blankets for them to sit on, since all their clothes were still damp. Ash scowled. He didn't want to think this was going to go the way it looked, but he'd dealt with too many plots in his life to expect anything different.

Cain Blood was here, clearly pissed off. Eiji huddled close to Ash. Two girls Ash didn't recognize—freshmen. And him. He met Cain's glower.

 _One of us is being set up—the question is which one of us_.

"Okumura, you can go," said Mr. Lee, emerging from his office. "You were with us and wouldn't have had enough time."

Eiji rose. "But I have—I can provide—Ash and I ran into each other in the hallway, so he couldn't have—"

Ash wanted to groan. Eiji wanted to help. He wasn't helping.

Cain looked at Ash as if to say, _sucks_.

"You left our office around five past ten," said Mr. Lee. "How interesting, because Ash was out of his classroom a good ten minutes before that."

Ash gritted his teeth. _Fuck you_.

"Go back to your classroom," said Mr. Lee. "Mr. Callenreese, I'm calling your—guardian. And the rest of you's parents. Unless somebody wants to break right now."

Everyone stayed silent. The two freshmen girls cried.

Max showed up within a half hour, as Mr. Lee was interrogating Cain.

At least it wasn't Jessica. Ash had a feeling she'd go off on Mr. Lee. "For once, I really didn't do it," Ash said by way of greeting.

Max exhaled, sitting next to Ash.

Someone really wanted him to get expelled. Ash pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on them.

Max put his hand on Ash's back.

 _I don't want to be expelled_.

Not when things were finally going well. Even if Dino was circling around like a vulture. He had Eiji here, someone he looked forward to seeing every day. Shorter, who was his first true friend, maybe ever. Alex and Kong and Bones. His grades were finally high enough that no one could even yell at him.

"Hey," Charlie said, sticking his head in. "Time for your interview."

What was he even going to say? He couldn't explain why he left the classroom, not without getting into Dino and—Ash was not going there. Max would figure it out, but no one else would.

They would put him back in juvie, wouldn't they, for this kind of thing? Arson? Ash rose, dread rattling around in his stomach. _Fuck you, Arthur_.

"Ash," said Charlie once they were seated in Mr. Lee's office. Thankfully Dino wasn't there. "Where—"

"I was waiting around for Eiji. I thought he might be in trouble."

"And how did you even know he was called to my office?" questioned Mr. Lee.

"If you think kids aren't on their phones in class, you overestimate our self-control."

Max winced.

"I didn't set the fire," Ash said. He met Charlie's eyes. Charlie was the one person he could semi-trust who might have any influence.

"Your word's not really enough," said Mr. Lee. "Cain Blood's story checks out, and those two girls have no sort of record. You, on the other hand—"

Anger ignited. Of course. Of _course_. "So if you've made up your mind, then why are you even—"

"Don't adopt that tone of voice with me."

Ash glared at the man. He hated him. Thunder crackled outside. It wasn't fair. It was all the same. The streets prison juvie school, all the same.

A knock on the door.

"We're busy!" hollered Mr. Lee. "Ash, since this is yet another strike, and quite a serious—"

"Why would I burn an empty office? And use an accelerant? That's just stupid. I—"

"The amount of damage is—"

The knock was louder. Muffled yelling echoed through the door.

"What?" snapped Mr. Lee, getting to his feet and flinging open the door.

Yut-Lung stood there, yelling at Suk-Leui. "I told you to let me talk to my brother!"

 _Oh, Christ. Really?_ Ash really might be sick. _Why you?_

Mr. Lee clenched his fists by his side. "Yut-Lung, now is not the—"

"But Ash is telling the truth," blurted out Yut-Lung. "And I can prove it."

"What?" Mr. Lee's jaw hung open. Ash gaped. Max's eyes bugged out. Charlie dropped his phone onto the wooden floor with a clack.

"It was those two girls," Yut-Lung said, tossing his hair. "Dick paid them off. They're impressionable freshmen; getting attention from an upperclassman is a significant motivator. It's not really their fault."

 _Dick?_ One of Arthur's dumbass friends. His name fit.

Mr. Lee crossed his arms, looking down his nose as his brother. Yut-Lung glanced at Ash, gulping. "You can't make this kind of accusation without—"

"We were in class together," Yut-Lung interrupted. "All of us. After Ash left, he texted someone." He pulled out his phone. He pressed play, and that toady's voice filled the room.

" _Of course not."_

" _Then who did? Was it Arthur?" Yut-Lung's voice sounded bored. "I'd like to personally thank him if so."_

The vehemence in Yut-Lung's voice rubbed Ash the wrong way. He scowled.

" _Nah, just these two freshmen girls. You'd be surprised how easy they are to convince when you offer to get them into prom or give them rides. Oh, and some weed."_

" _Seems like a win-win for you," came Yut-Lung's voice. "So they'll think it's Ash?"_

" _Say goodbye to that lynx."_

Yut-Lung switched it off. "See?" He ran his fingers through his ponytail, meeting his brother's eyes.

 _Are you for real right now?_ Ash's mouth hung open. _Why would you do that?_ He thought he'd written him off for fucking with Shorter, but— _are you a friend or not? What is your deal?_

"I have no reason to lie, _brother_ ," Yut-Lung said. "I just thought some of the events odd, so I—"

"Indeed. Thank you." Mr. Lee's shoulders were stiff. "In that case, you're free to go, Mr. Callenreese. Charlie—"

"I'll get the kid." Charlie tossed Ash a look of relief as he scurried out of the room.

"Apologies for having disturbed you at work, Mr. Lobo."

"No worries." Max waved his hand. Yut-Lung looked tiny in his brother's shadow.

Ash hesitated as he rose. "Sounds like those girls were manipulated." He crossed his arms.

"I will be the decider of their—"

"I don't fault them for it," Ash insisted. He wondered if Dick would rat on Arthur. Probably not. But—

"That's big of you. Now get out."

Ash dragged his feet. The door to the outer office opened, Charlie dragging Dick. Ash let out his breath.

"See you later, brother," Yut-Lung said, slipping out behind them.

"I have to get back to work," Max said. "Will you—"

"I'll be okay." Ash nodded at him. "Thanks."

Max headed towards the door. Ash turned to Yut-Lung, both of them walking silently until they rounded the corner. "Why." A statement. He wanted to know.

"I was watching him. Arthur is stupid in every way; it was only a matter of time until he tried to set up something he was doomed to fail at. I thought he might try something—you and I both know Arthur's just biding his time. He's furious that you broke his hand and his reputation as the school's tough guy." Yut-Lung swallowed.

"So you waited to prey on his weaknesses?" Ash stared. Yut-Lung reminded him of Blanca, almost, knowing where to hurt, how to play on people's worst instincts to get what you wanted from them. But this time it'd worked out in Ash's favor. For whatever reason. _What are you about? Why are you trying to get close to me?_

 _I still don't trust you._

Yut-Lung blinked. "I suppose. Are you actually mad I saved your ass? You know my brother's eager to expel you."

"And you don't want that why, exactly? Because a few weeks ago you definitely did." Ash folded his arms.

"I hate my brother." Yut-Lung met his eyes.

 _So am I revenge to you? A small, petty way to thwart him?_

Yut-Lung lowered his chin. "And I'm—really, truly sorry. For what I said. For what I did. That wasn't cool. I understand you not—believing me, but I meant it. I do mean it." He took a few steps back. "I'll go now."

Ash watched him trudge away. He was actually leaving, without looking back. Like he maybe meant it. But if he did, then why had he done it in the first place? Still... _Aw, fuck._ "Wait."

Yut-Lung halted.

"Thanks," Ash said, approaching. "I do appreciate it."

Yut-Lung nodded. "Sing told me—to wait and if I was really sorry, I'd get the chance to prove it. I mean—"

"Wait, what? Sing did?" Ash gaped at him.

"Should I not have said that?" Yut-Lung's hand flew to his mouth.

 _You are so awkward and I can't figure you out._ "I guess the thing is," Ash said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "I still don't understand why you did that in the first place. Do you hate me that much? I mean, we don't even know each other."

"Everyone knows of you."

Ash's face heated. "That's not the same, and I never asked for that."

"I suppose. That's not fair of me, then." Yut-Lung swallowed. "I don't think I can give you an answer you want. I don't really have one. But I am really sorry." His eyes met Ash's, and they were hopeful.

"Your brother is a piece of work," Ash said. "He hates me."

"Well, my previous hatred of you is at least purely removed from his hatred of you, I can assure you of that. We're not close."

That was an understatement. Ash had seen that posture before, someone shrinking in another's presence. "Want to hang out with me and Eiji and Shorter after school?" He still wasn't sure this was a good idea. And if he fucked up— But Yut-Lung radiated something inexplicable, an angel face, a devilish mind, something like a mirror he wanted to turn away from, and yet something he couldn't leave alone.

Yut-Lung's face broke into a huge smile. He nodded, almost too eagerly. "See you later." He ducked into his classroom.

"Yay," commented Sing's voice from behind him. Ash whirled around. Sing slouched against the lockers. "He's really not that bad. Just incredibly lonely."

"Were you listening?"

"Yeah. I told him it was now or never and he actually did something."

"He mentioned you helped him plan things."

"Not particularly interested in seeing you get expelled."

"Well, thanks." Ash followed Sing into their classroom. Eiji's face lit up when he saw Ash.

The thought of Dino anywhere near Eiji sickened Ash. He could only imagine what Dino was thinking. And if the man knew that Eiji was Ash's friend, which he probably did because he knew everything, then—

 _Why was I dumb enough to think I should make friends?_

He knew what happened to the people he loved. Griff was dead. Skip got beat up. Blanca left, because he was smart.

 _I'm an infection. I'm a walking STD_. Everyone he cared for got stained by the curses he was born with, the curses everyone had always been telling him he should be grateful for, that he shouldn't squander. Platinum blonde hair. Jade eyes. Good leadership skills. Athletic. IQ high enough to warrant small gasps. Sooner or later the curses infected other people around him, destroying the few people who might have actually cared.

With Eiji, and with Max and Jessica and Michael and Shorter, he really was playing with fire here at this school.

Maybe he understood Yut-Lung more than he thought. That loneliness pressed in all around him, wrapped thick fingers around his throat, choked him, and he was desperate to breathe no matter how selfish.

He dropped into his desk, trying to find his notebook, not that he'd pay attention and not that it would matter.

But he wished it would.


	6. Brood of Vipers

"You seem happier," Blanca commented as Yut-Lung sipped jasmine tea, getting ready for the morning.

He nodded. "They don't all hate me anymore."

"Well, good."

It was more than that. In the days since the fire, Ash seemed to like him, and Shorter was even being—forgiving. Too forgiving. Like to the point where Yut-Lung was still dragging his feet, because if he were Shorter he'd still hate him. He also couldn't help but notice how that Japanese boy seemed to make Ash smile whenever he came close, and yet Ash's eyes would darken like ghosts were fluttering around his head, phantom daggers stabbing at an unseen place. But when Eiji was nearby, they disappeared.

Yut-Lung could relate. When he was with his friends (friends! _friends_ ) he basked in the fact that he wasn't alone. And then when he was sitting in class, whenever the door would open, his heart would leap into his throat, and he would tremble because he knew, he knew that sooner or later, it would come and everything would come crashing down.

On Friday a week and a half after the fire, it came. The secretary, Suk-Leui, met him outside of his classroom after the last bell rang. Yut-Lung had gathered his books, planning to get pizza ( _how unsophisticated_ ) with Ash and Sing and Eiji and Shorter. "Your brother wants to see you."

"I'll text him," Yut-Lung said, but he knew instantly what her response would be.

"He said I'm to escort you, and that he's calling you as a principal and not as a brother." She wrang her hands. "Don't anger him, Yut-Lung."

"Oh, does that mean he intends to keep it to my grades and schedule?" Yut-Lung asked innocently. "I should be so lucky." But he followed her.

"Yut-Lung!" called Sing, laughing with Lao by his locker. "See you later?"

Yut-Lung nodded, a lump in his throat. His chest tightened. This was not going to be fun.

"Your brother's here," she announced, pushing open the office door.

"Come in, Yut-Lung." Wang-Lung lowered his laptop. The door clicked behind him. Yut-Lung stayed standing, as was expected. He balled his fists at his side.

Wang-Lung's palm struck him before he could so much as blink.

Still a failure. Still, his reflexes weren't fast enough. Yut-Lung stayed on his feet, though, at the very least. He knew how to plant his feet so as not to fall. He kept his gaze focused on the ground while his brother railed at him, blustering about how he was undermining his authority, bursting in there in front of that reporter, and how dare he not put family first, how dare he, how could he, what trash, should have, wish, blah blah blah, _shut up shut up shut up how can I get you to shut up?_

He fumbled around for the right salve. "I thought punishing the wrong person would undermine you more," Yut-Lung managed.

And he knew instantly he'd stung his brother. Whoops.

Wang-Lung grabbed him by the throat. He hurled him to the floor.

 _Really? Here?_ In the school? This kind of treatment was usually reserved for when he was summoned to Wang-Lung's home. Yut-Lung gagged. His elbow throbbed from where it'd struck the ground. "I was—trying to help—you," he eked out, digging his heels in. "Really. I want—"

"Do you? Because it looks to me like you're sucking up to that Lynx boy, just like everyone else. But you're not everyone else. You're a Lee. Our father's blood—"

"I'm not," Yut-Lung protested. "Why would I—I just wanted to help—" _It's you, it's all about you, that's what you want to hear, isn't it? All hail the mighty Wang-Lung.  
_

Wang-Lung's hands dug through his hair, yanking and twisting.

 _Ugh. It hurts, it hurts, please—_

"Golzine is swarming closer," Wang-Lung said. "I don't know who to trust."

"I'm your brother," Yut-Lung insisted, widening his eyes, softening his voice. It used to work on Hua-Lung, draping himself in this facade.

"Are you?" Wang-Lung removed his hand from his throat. "You look too much like that slut."

Yut-Lung gulped in air, pushing himself up. _She wasn't a slut. She was my mother. She never hit me, not once_. Even when he was four and went through all her expensive makeup, drawing all kinds of designs on his face and the bathroom wall. She laughed and cleaned his face, kissing his cheeks as he colored her nose hot pink with lipstick.

He couldn't remember the sound of her laughter anymore, and it stung.

"You haven't answered any of my texts since the term began," Wang-Lung stated. His gaze bore into Yut-Lung.

"I've been busy." Yut-Lung bowed his head. "I will do better."

Wang-Lung's hand stretched out, cupping his cheek. Yut-Lung froze. _Please don't_ — "I've heard Golzine can't resist a beautiful boy."

Lunch surged back up Yut-Lung's throat. "But—"

"You look like a woman, but you're a man," said Wang-Lung. "So you'll do nicely."

Panic clamped. So much for salves. "I don't want to."

Wang-Lung's jaw clenched. "Excuse me?"

"I don't want to be a whore—"

"You _are_ one. Nothing will change that. You've been one since you were six years old."

 _If I sleep with him, will you leave me alone_? No, because there was no endgame in sight. Just more requests, more men and women to push him down, nothing ahead of him but that.

"I don't want to," he said again. "I don't want to sleep with him." That's what Blanca would say, right?

"Ash has."

"I know."

"What's wrong with you?" Wang-Lung cussed. "This could help me. I—"

"I can look at Ash," Yut-Lung interrupted. Anything, anything to push him away. "I can—he trusts me now. I can find out if he's a friend or a pawn sent by Golzine, or if there's anything useful on Golzine, please. I have my own plans, too."

"Hm." Wang-Lung leaned back.

"You can trust me," Yut-Lung insisted. What bullshit.

Wang-Lung scoffed, but he got to his feet. "No one can trust you."

Yut-Lung dragged himself up. Shame pressed into his shoulders. "I'm a Lee," he said, the words poison. "I always have our family's—best interests—at heart. I'll find out information for you. If Golzine's using Ash to spy or to plot something to have you removed, I'll find out. And I'll tell you immediately, and we can work to stop him. I promise." All lies to entrap a snake.

He'd have to talk to Blanca. Blanca surely wouldn't let Wang-Lung prostitute him again. _Fuck you!_

"Okay," Wang-Lung said, dropping into his chair. It creaked. "Don't make me regret trusting you, Yut-Lung."

"Never," Yut-Lung assured him.

He took three steps back, and then darted out of the office. His face still stung from the slap, and his hair was mussed.

"Yut-Lung?"

He halted, heart in his throat. Eiji was watching him, taking in his slightly unkempt appearance, the way he was hyperventilating.

"Are you okay?"

"Do I look it?" His claws had returned. And, oh great, here he was spoiling everything, the friends he'd finally made, all because of Wang-Lung, all because of the stupid name he carried, all because he was born under unlucky stars.

"No," Eiji said. "You don't."

 _You aren't lashing back out at me?_ Yut-Lung gaped. And then he turned and ran.

He made it back to his house before hot tears splashed down his face. If Eiji knew what he'd just promised to do, he'd be disgusted. _Yut-Lung_ was disgusted. He raced into the kitchen, trying to boil water for tea. He had another hour before he was supposed to meet them at the pizza place. Maybe he shouldn't even go. He really shouldn't. They'd be so grossed out to be around him. He had no right to make friends.

 _Wang-Lung, you ruin everything!_ He stomped his foot.

"What happened?" came Blanca's voice. He sounded tired.

Yut-Lung pressed his hands against the stove. His shoulders shook. He looked over at Blanca, sure Blanca could see the small bruise forming on his cheek.

"Who hurt you?" Blanca demanded.

"Who else? Wang-Lung finally caught me on his hook." Yut-Lung threw his head back, a bitter laugh exploding. "He wanted me to—sleep with Golzine to find out what he's up to."

Blanca's gaze darkened. "You'll be sick that day. I'll get you a doctor's note."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm far smarter than that. We came up with a different plan. I'm supposed to report on Ash. Find out if he's planted by Golzine. And if he's not, which he probably isn't, then I have to sleep with Golzine, I'm sure." Yut-Lung kept laughing. It wasn't funny. Not at all. The sounds scraped his throat. "So I'm going to lose the only friends I have and still probably have to sleep with that disgusting old man, and—"

"Report on Ash."

"Huh?"

"Report on him, and—"

Yut-Lung gaped at him. "But they're my _friends_."

"Your safety—"

"Wasn't Ash your pupil once, too?" He didn't understand. _What on earth are you saying?_

"Yes," said Blanca. "My most talented pupil, besides you."

"Don't you care about him?"

"Of course I do. Do. But there are risks you can't take." Blanca folded his arms. "My current goal is to protect you, and that's not possible if—"

"You think protecting me means letting me rat on a friend?" Yut-Lung broke into laughter again. "That's the funniest—"

"There are some monsters you can't fight, Yut-Lung."

"Dino molests him."

"He did."

"And you did nothing."

Blanca's brows pinched together. "I taught him to defend himself. I taught him to do well in school so he'd be able to extract himself even when he couldn't physically fend him off anymore. I didn't know how to help him escape. Dino's a monster. No one would believe it about him, and Ash himself refused to talk to the police when I offered."

"But _you_ didn't defend Ash." Something snapped. Yut-Lung glared at him. "You could have kidnapped him. Run away. And now you're—you're a coward." He pounded his fist on the counter. "You're the biggest coward I've ever met, and you wouldn't believe the kinds of people I've entertained, or maybe you would." Tears streamed down his face now, and something horrible curdled in his stomach.

 _No one would trust you._

 _Was he an idiot, for trusting himself?_

"You don't care, do you?" he whispered. "I'm just a job to you. I thought—I thought—"

Blanca opened his hands. "I'm just—I'm not capable of—"

"Not capable or too afraid to?" Yut-Lung shook his head. "I'm not sleeping with him."

"Good. I won't let him—"

"I wanted you to care about me!" Yut-Lung cried out. "I thought you did! I thought—then—but—" Did they? Did his friends of a few days, or were they just like Blanca? Did anyone care anyone anyone? Or was it all just bullshit?

He remembered his mother, holding him close, screaming for him when they took him away from her. She sang lullabies to him, combed his hair, let him grow his hair long because he told her he wanted to look like her. Because she was beautiful, and because she was safe, and he loved her.

 _You cared._

Blanca's face was white. "Yut-Lung—"

He knew all about Blanca's story. An orphan himself. Saw his parents killed. On that front, they could relate. Intelligent, but complicit in lots of political schemes that resulted in the deaths of thousands. And more personally, an assassin.

"I'm a murderer," Blanca said. "I'm not—cut out to be a father, or a father-like figure, in any sense of the term."

"Why not?" Yut-Lung met his eyes. "You didn't have a choice when you were growing up, but you do now, don't you?" Was that what he would become? Someone with all the fight, all the fire, all the strength stamped out of him, replaced with logic and strategy and ways to survive?

 _I don't want to survive._

 _I want to live, and if I can't live, I want to die._

"You aren't hurting anyone anymore," managed Yut-Lung. "You're contracted by me. You're protecting me. So then why—why—" He groped for the sharpest knife he had. "Natalia would be disappointed in you." Okay, bringing up the name of his wife, the woman who was killed the first time he left the business, was probably a low blow. But Yut-Lung didn't care.

Blanca sucked in his breath.

"Well?" Yut-Lung demanded. "Do you even have emotions, or are you just a machine?"

Silence.

"Do something! Say something! I just brought up your dead and rotting wife, and you can't even—"

"She's dead."

"So what?" His mother was dead, too. And still...

 _I don't want to live in a way that disappoints you._

 _Mommy, be proud of me._

She couldn't leave. She couldn't ever leave. She was an orphan too, his father's sex toy since ten years old, and then his mother at fifteen, dead at twenty-one because his brothers took him from her after his father died.

"You _can_ leave, dammit!" Yut-Lung shouted. "More than I can. More than—Ash can—you can. Why are you staying? Why? If you care, act like it! If you don't, then just get out!" He stormed past him. "I want you to leave!"

"Where are you going?"

"Out!" Yut-Lung hollered. He slammed the door behind him. Wasn't that what normal teenagers were supposed to do? Slam the door, run out on their parents?

 _But you're not a parent._

 _I want you to be._

It didn't matter. Blanca would leave. He would definitely leave now. Yut-Lung ducked his head. He ran through the streets, ignoring the crowds of people laughing and dancing and preparing for a fun Friday night. He pounded on Sing's door.

Lao answered.

 _Oh great, not you._

"He's not here," Lao said. "He went to Shorter's after school."

"Oh." Yut-Lung turned around and took off again, running towards Shorter's.

 _Mommy, please be with me._

 _I don't want to be alone._

* * *

Eiji hummed to himself as he waved to Ibe and headed out into the evening. The sun dribbled peach and blush over shredded and crushed lilac clouds. The chilled air encased him, scarlet and golden leaves fluttering down from the trees, littering the paths before they crumbled into brown dust.

The pizza place wasn't very far from where he lived. Eiji rounded the corner, double checking his phone to make sure he knew how to get there. He'd gotten lost even with his phone more than once. Last weekend Ash had to find him when he couldn't find his way home.

He almost slammed into someone. "Oof, sorry!" he gasped. He froze.

Yut-Lung looked up at him, tears running down his face. He took a few steps back, as if scared of Eiji.

Eiji's hands flew up. "What happened?" He hadn't looked right when he left his brother's office, but Eiji told himself not to worry about it. His hand reached for Yut-Lung's shoulder.

Yut-Lung shook his head. "I can't get in touch with Sing. Lao said he was at Shorter's, but—"

"He definitely wasn't, because Shorter was with Ash," said Eiji. "Sing was at the library."

Yut-Lung frowned.

It bothered Eiji. Had Lao lied? Why would he have lied? That wasn't very cool of him.

"I have something to ask Sing," Yut-Lung said finally.

"Huh?" Eiji didn't understand.

"Oh, never mind." Yut-Lung's haughty mask slipped back on, and if it weren't for the red rims around his eyes Eiji wouldn't have been able to guess he'd just been sobbing. "I guess I know what he'd say anyways."

"Huh?" Eiji repeated.

"My brother wants me to report on Ash," said Yut-Lung, staring up at Eiji.

 _Report… on Ash_? Eiji's jaw dropped. "Why?"

"Politics." Yut-Lung shrugged. He covered his mouth. "Are you going to punch me? For Ash?"

 _You are so strange._ "No?"

"Why not?"

"It's pretty clear you don't want to do it." Eiji's mind galloped back. "Wait, was that whole thing with the fire a—"

"It wasn't a set-up, but my brother wants to use it, because of course he does, because he's a piece of shit." Yut-Lung huffed. "Everyone in my family is a piece of shit. Myself included."

"I don't think that," Eiji said. He didn't understand. This boy was supposedly spoiled, acted like he was better than everyone else, and— _you really think of yourself like that?_

He met Eiji's eyes. Yut-Lung's eyes were dry now, but still bleeding. He almost looked like Ash, but a shadow of him, with less fight and still more hope.

 _You feel alone._ He knew that look, staring at him from the mirror the past year in Japan. "Then let's figure it out," Eiji said, heart thumping. "Ash won't get mad at you."

Yut-Lung snorted.

"I won't let him."

"Why?" Yut-Lung seemed confused.

"Let's go," said Eiji, heart pounding. "No matter what's going on, we can stop your brother."

"You're so naive," said Yut-Lung, sounding like his haughty self again.

Eiji almost smiled. It was a relief.

"What?"

"You sound snobby again."

"Excuse me?"

"That's a good thing!"

"It is not." Yut-Lung rolled his eyes.

"I meant that you seem like yourself—" Eiji moaned.

Ash, Sing, and Shorter were already at the pizza place, slouched in a booth. Sing waved. Yut-Lung sighed in relief.

Eiji slid in next to Ash. Yut-Lung perched on the edge of the other bench. Eiji arched his eyebrows.

"What?" asked Ash.

"What?" Eiji squeaked. "Nothing."

"Nothing," Yut-Lung echoed.

Sing and Shorter both stopped squabbling over options and turned to them, eyes narrowed. Yut-Lung glowered at Eiji.

 _I'm the worst at this_. "Water?" Eiji managed, scrambling to his feet.

"My brother wants me to spy on you and your old tutor is currently my guardian and told me to do it, too, but I don't want to. Ash."

Ash, Sing, and Shorter all dropped their jaws.

Yut-Lung crossed his arms, leaning back with a scowl. "He thinks you're spying for Golzine. Or, something. They have kind of a rivalry, but I'm sure you know that. My brother called me into his office today to threaten me. If I don't help, then I have to—figure out another way to get information from Golzine myself. You know what I mean."

A horrible suspicion formed in Eiji's mind. He remembered the creepy feeling Golzine gave him, the way he looked Eiji up and down. Shorter's mouth puckered as if he was feeling sick.

 _Oh my God._

"So if that's your plan, why are you here?" asked Ash.

"Because I don't want to," said Yut-Lung. "I want to—have friends. I don't want to do that to friends." He hunched his shoulders.

"My old tutor—you mean _Blanca?"_

Yut-Lung nodded.

"Who's he?" asked Sing.

"A very smart and very stupid private tutor," said Yut-Lung. "Since Hua-Lung's in Hong Kong for—well, who knows how long, eternity for all I care—I needed someone else to stay with me."

Ash snorted. "Sucks for you."

 _Who is Blanca?_ Eiji wondered. _How much don't I know about you, Ash?_

He wanted to know. Ash was mocking Blanca to Yut-Lung, free of disgust. He wanted to know.

Yut-Lung shrugged. He pressed his lips together. "I don't want to report on you."

"I'm not mad at you," said Ash.

"Really?" Yut-Lung looked relieved. Sing smiled.

"I'm also not here to do anything for Dino. Though I'm sure he'll try." Ash swallowed.

A suspicion began to form in Eiji's mind. _Are you planning on running before that happens?_ There was something temporal about Ash, the way he reminded Eiji of life itself, but also kept to the shadows like he was afraid of living, too.

 _Don't run._

 _You'll fall. You'll tear yourself apart._ He twitched his ankle.

"I could say you should tell him that, but I don't think that will help you," Ash said. He cussed.

"We could get rid of both of them," said Shorter. "Calm down, Eiji, I don't mean like with a gun."

"It's my problem. Dino is—"

"It's my problem, too," interrupted Yut-Lung.

"And mine," declared Eiji.

"It is not," Ash countered, looking at him.

"Yes," Eiji said. "It is." _Run. Keep running. Towards—something_. "Because I care about you." _You're not alone._ He remembered nights in his bedroom in Japan, knowing his old track and field team was out at a match, and how loud the clocks were ticking.

"Same," said Sing. "I mean, both of you. I mean, I consider you both friends, so—"

"See?" Shorter said triumphantly. "We're all in on this."

Ash groaned. "Fine. I have an idea, to provoke them both, but—"

"Please say it'll be fun," said Shorter. "And involve wrecking something."

"Maybe." Ash smirked. He glanced at Yut-Lung. "Does the school have security cameras?"


	7. Pearls Before Swine

Ash tested the rock in his hand. Rough and uneven, heavy, but not too heavy. The other four waited, Yut-Lung looking as if he was about to puke and Shorter smirking.

Ash hurled it through the window to Mr. Kippard's classroom. Glass scattered everywhere.

"Wow," Eiji breathed.

Ash snuck up to the window, wrapping his jacket around his arm and batting the stray glass away. He hauled himself up and into the classroom. Shorter was next, and then Sing, whom Shorter reached out to help despite Sing snapping that he didn't need a hand. Ash pulled Eiji in, and Shorter tugged Yut-Lung inside. Glass crunched under their shoes.

Ash knocked Kippard's computer off his desk as he made his way towards the door. He remembered Kippard. The man had commented that he'd seen Ash's videos once. _I hate you._

Shorter jumped on the screen, crushing it.

Their footsteps echoed through the empty hallways. Ash's mind whirled with what Yut-Lung had told him.

 _You, too._

He understood, of course, what Yut-Lung was saying, even if the others might not have entirely gotten it. Everything was a sham here. _Education my ass_. They only cared about what tools they could use from the kids, their minds or their bodies in some cases, to pull themselves up, get ahead. They were vending machines to pull this idea or this night from again and again until they ran empty.

They paused outside the door to the office. Yut-Lung removed a bobby pin from his hair, crouching down. He fiddled with the lock. Shorter used his phone's flashlight to help.

The door swung up, and then Yut-Lung broke the lock to his brother's office.

"What're we looking for?" Shorter asked.

"Anything of use," Ash replied. "Like shady dealings. I'll look on his computer." He eyed the surroundings. "Also, don't be neat."

"No worries here." Sing sent out his dragon fang, stabbing the framed photo of Wang-Lung, his father, and his five brothers. Yut-Lung was not included. "You want the pleasure, Yut-Lung?"

"Yes."

"Here." Sing handed him dragon fang. "Use it like this." He took Yut-Lung's hand, fitting the glove on.

Yut-Lung almost took out his own eye. Sing yelped.

Ash powered up the computer. "Any idea for your brother's password?"

"Try 'Lee Family Best' or something along those lines." Yut-Lung huffed, Sing finally helping him tear apart the photo. "I have no idea."

Shorter snorted. He yanked open the silver filing cabinets. Eiji leaned over Ash's shoulder.

"I can still get in," Ash assured him. He didn't even know exactly what he was looking for. _It's hopeless_. Dino had enough money that anything they found wouldn't amount to anything. He could buy off everyone.

But if the media got ahold of it… _Max…_

It didn't matter. He had to try. Yut-Lung shouldn't have to sleep with that disgusting man, and Ash was under no illusions that Dino wasn't circling Eiji like a vulture. Eiji was too good to have that man stain him. He actually didn't seem to mind Ash's past. He didn't treat him like he was anything different than Eiji. He acted like they were from the same world, both breathing with blood running through their veins, when Ash was...

 _If it's hopeless, then I want to go down fighting._

 _Because that's what I think you'd do._ Eiji rested his chin on Ash's shoulder, and he didn't mind.

Twenty minutes later, and the passcode was cracked. "Leehonglung," Ash said. "The password."

Yut-Lung was using Shorter's lighter to burn the peacock painting. "My father's name." He said it with about as much affection as Ash had for his father.

Sing knelt in front of Wang-Lung's desk. Ash had no idea what he was fiddling with there, but whatever. Ash jabbed a thumb drive into the computer. "Half of this is in Chinese."

"Well, good thing you have three friends who grew up speaking it," Shorter pointed out. "I bet Lao would help too. Hey, why didn't you ask him tonight, Sing?"

"I did." Sing shrugged. "He probably wouldn't help. He'd freak."

Ash downloaded as many files as he could. And then he rammed his fist through the screen.

"We can go to my place," Yut-Lung said. "And look through it all." He frowned. "It's probably empty, anyways."

"Blanca won't be there?"

"I doubt it. I told him to leave." Yut-Lung turned his face away.

Ash was glad. He did not want to see that man. He yanked out the drawers in the desk, tipping them over. Shorter gathered the file folders he was taking under his arm. And Eiji tore down the curtains.

"Let's go."

They made it to Yut-Lung's mansion. It reminded Ash of Dino's, but it was a lot more open than the confines of that place. Filmy curtains dangled across every window, not like the heavy ones in that office.

The house was indeed empty, silent and dark. Yut-Lung lead them to his room, flicking on the light. Ink paintings of flowers and birds, framed, hung in patterns on the walls. A teal couch with silken cushions and perhaps a dozen pillows sat in the center of the room. Books piled on a desk. It also looked larger than Ash's entire apartment last year and the year before that combined.

"You have. A four-poster. Bed," Shorter said, gaping.

"Yes?" Yut-Lung blinked, as if he genuinely didn't understand why they were all gaping.

Shorter shrugged. "Oh, no reason. I just I thought those went out of style in the eighteenth century."

Yut-Lung scowled.

"Wow," breathed Sing, running his hands along the scarlet bedspread, embroidered with golden peacocks. "Is this _silk?"_

"Satin," said Yut-Lung. Plants crowded in one of the corners. Ash wondered if Yut-Lung had a secret interest in botany.

Yut-Lung headed towards a small cabinet. He pulled out what looked like a bottle of moscato.

"What's that?" squeaked Eiji, examining one of the plants.

"Don't touch that one," Yut-Lung said. "You'll get a rash. And it's wine."

"Yikes!" Eiji yanked his hand back.

Sing's phone rang. He checked it, grimaced, and turned it off.

"Lao?" asked Shorter. He looked confused.

"He never lets me have any fun." Sing rolled his eyes, dropping onto the couch and tossing one of the pillows up in the air to catch it. Yut-Lung poured the wine into glasses.

"Do you seriously have a full cabinet of liquor here?" Shorter asked, brow furrowing. "You're sixteen."

"No one cares." Yut-Lung plopped down next to Sing. He gulped some of the liquid. "Hua-Lung's gone and now I've chased off that tutor, too. The cops won't find out for awhile, though. I can keep up appearances."

Ash didn't know what to say. He sat back against the bed, Eiji next to him. The alcohol stung his stomach. "As long as you don't get robbed."

Shorter cussed.

He shouldn't have said that. He didn't want to think about it again, about coming back and finding his brother bleeding out and the reality that, again, he had failed.

His brother couldn't even say his name. Couldn't recognize him. Not even when he was dying.

 _"Griffin! Griff!"_

He just wanted to hear _Ash_ one more time.

"I don't really care," said Yut-Lung finally.

 _Nothing to care about_. Ash shrugged.

"My parents died when I was six," added Yut-ung. "Not that they were married."

"My dad's still alive. I think. But he took off when I was born. Same with my mother. My brother raised me until he left for the army."

"I was eight when they had a car crash," Shorter said.

"Never had one," said Sing. "Well, dad, anyways. My mom's still around. Kind of. She's high most of the time."

"My dad's been sick as long as I can remember," Eiji said quietly. "But he's still alive. My mom works to pay the bills for us." He swallowed the wine, mouth puckering. "I was supposed to get a scholarship for pole vaulting so I could help out. But I couldn't after my injury."

"How do you have the money to come here, then?" Yut-Lung asked.

"Ibe. He took a photo of me and it started his career. Pole-vaulting. It was a few months before my career ended."

"Why did you want to do that?" asked Ash. He swirled the liquid around in his cup. It was sweet, a girly drink. "I mean, start the sport in the first place." He knew so little about Eiji. He wanted to know. He wanted Eiji to be able to open up for him, like he could for Eiji.

"Mm." Eiji rubbed his chin. "I guess I liked the idea of flying, and I had good motor control, and it was less expensive than gymnastics."

"What was it like?" asked Ash. "To fly?"

Eiji smiled. "For just a few seconds, amazing. And then you slam onto the mat and if you don't know how to fall correctly, it'll hurt."

"There's a correct way to fall?" Shorter yelped.

Eiji nodded.

"I envy you," Ash said. "You know how to fly."

"Not anymore."

 _Yes, you do_ , Ash wanted to say, but he didn't know how.

"I bet you'd be good at it," said Sing. "You don't seem to be afraid of anything, Ash." He sounded wistful.

"Not true," said Ash.

"Oh really?" asked Yut-Lung. Shorter snorted, because of course he knew.

"I'm afraid of pumpkins," Ash said. "One time, for Halloween, my dad made me a jack o'lantern, and I wore it to go trick-or-treating. I hid in the woods to scare Griff, and it was too dark, and when I eventually decided he wasn't coming in time so I should go home, I turned and saw a giant pumpkin monster. It took me until I was like eleven to realize it was just my reflection in a car mirror."

A laugh broke out next to him. Ash turned. "Huh?"

Eiji cackled. "Better not tell Arthur. The entire school will be infested with pumpkins!" He pounded his fist on the floor. "I'm telling! Shorter, we should have a pumpkin-themed—"

"Hey!" Ash glowered at him, but then he realized Shorter, Sing, and Yut-Lung were all laughing too.

Yut-Lung broke open another bottle.

It was around two in the morning when Sing and Shorter passed out. Yut-Lung followed soon after. Ash texted Max not to worry. Eiji moaned. "My stomach hurts."

"Are you going to throw up?"

"I hope not." Eiji tried to breathe.

"Here." Ash reached out, pressing his wrist. "Acupressure." He didn't want to say he'd learned that from Marvin, after he used to throw up every time.

Eiji gulped. His eyes lolled about, face flushed from the alcohol, and he had only had two cups as opposed to the rest of them. "You know, Griffin wasn't your fault."

"Huh?"

"Him dying. You—"

"It was," Ash said, trying to keep his voice low. Maybe this was it, the spell shattering, Eiji finally seeing, and he didn't know if he was ready and he hated himself for that, for still clinging. If he hadn't clung to Griffin he might still be alive. In a rehabilitation center, left to rot, but alive.

 _Which is worse?_

"It wasn't." Eiji's eyes, dark chocolate, lasered him.

"It was," Ash said. "Eiji, I was out giving my ex-teacher a blowjob to convince him not to tell on the fact that I was living alone with Griffin. Prostituting myself." Oh great, now Eiji might puke.

But he didn't. Eiji frowned. "I'm sorry... you went through that."

"It was my choice."

"Was it?"

"Yes," Ash said. "I—" His throat closed up.

 _I don't want this. None of it._

 _It's all I've ever wanted. Someone to trust. Someone to listen. Someone to believe the best of me and not just my abilities or my looks, but_ me.

But it felt dizzying, burning. He wanted to crawl back.

"I don't care," Eiji said.

"Why do you even care about me?" Ash demanded. "Is it just because I—because I stood up for you one time?"

Eiji flinched. He looked down. "I don't know. No one ever did before, besides Ibe."

 _No one ever stood with me_. Well, Shorter did. But this felt like something else, too.

"Am I a burden?" Eiji asked.

He knew he and Griffin were burdens. His mother didn't want a baby slowing her city life down. His father didn't want two kids pestering him for food. And when he went to his dad after the coach attacked him, he told him. _Make him pay for it._

Ash thought he meant literally. To this day he didn't know. And when he shot the man, when he was covered in blood and other things, and the police came, he watched his dad look at him with that face. Those eyes, rent with guilt. And then he sent him away. _I was just a reminder of your failures, born of a failed relationship, a failed child, failed everything, failure._

" _No_ ," Ash insisted. "Not to me."

 _I feel like you're carrying mine. My burdens. And I don't feel like you should have to. I feel like a burden, for that._

"Well, you're not to me, either," Eiji retorted.

 _Then... then..._ could he really believe that? Should he?

"Don't you feel badly about being involved in vandalism?"

"I can make my own decisions, Ash. I don't need to be babied." Eiji pressed his lips together. "I guess I'm tired of living so safely."

"Well then," Ash said. "I think you still know how to fly."

Eiji's eyes widened. And then he vomited.

None of the other boys even stirred. Ash half-dragged Eiji to Yut-Lung's bed and pulled the empty trash can over. It looked like it hadn't ever been used. He cleaned up the floor. He was washing his hands in the kitchen when he heard the sound of the door. And no other sound.

Ash grabbed the nearest knife, whirling around.

"Don't even try, Ash."

Ash's eyes narrowed. "Yut-Lung said you were gone."

"Yut-Lung says a lot of things, including telling me he wanted me to leave, which was not phrased as an order." Blanca crossed his arms. "I can smell the alcohol."

"You're one to complain about that." Ash scowled. "He told me everything."

Blanca's brow lifted in surprise.

 _He can change_. "He's trying to help me," Ash said.

"And what are you doing?" Blanca crossed the kitchen in two steps. He grabbed a glass and poured himself some water. "Are you actually trying to solve anything, or are you trying to self-destruct?"

"Excuse me?"

"Dino will formally adopt you if you get kicked out again, or if—"

"I don't want that."

"You'd be set for life."

"No, I wouldn't be. I'd be trapped in a cage, like a pretty parakeet he can make sing whenever he wants." Heat flamed in Ash's belly. He could almost smell Dino's breath over him. He wanted to gag. "I have—friends." Shorter, and Sing. Yut-Lung, being honest with him, trying, trying so hard, believing things could get better in a way Ash didn't quite understand, but wanted to. "And one of them is..."

Eiji.

"I'm—happy now. Because I know there's at least one guy who cares for me and wants nothing in return. I can't believe how lucky I am. It's the happiest feeling in the world."

Blanca frowned. "You'll be safe if you cooperate with him, to an extent."

 _Cooperate?_ Cooperate? Ash's stomach turned. He clutched the sink, arms shaking. _You knew. You knew and you didn't take me away. You didn't save me. You said you were retiring... you didn't take me with you._

 _Why wasn't I enough? Why did you just like my father choose yourself? Am I really so worthless? Is that just how people are? Why can't I choose myself then?_

It wasn't how people were. Eiji. Max. Jessica.

"Why aren't you getting it?" Ash snapped. "Your idea of—safety—is what, allowing that old man to rape me?"

Blanca's face twisted. "No, it's you staying _alive_. If you cooperate with him you can negotiate. Offer to help him against Wang-Lung Lee. He'll allow you to stay with the Lobos, then, instead of being adopted by him. The more you fight the quicker you'll sink." His breath caught. "I don't want you to die. I've lost people before, far too many people."

"So what, you keep me locked up? Wings clipped?" Ash laughed, bitter.

"I don't know," Blanca said. "You're still alive, then."

"No," Ash said. "I'm not. I'm dead, Blanca. I've _been_ dead."

Blanca closed his eyes. "That isn't true."

"How would you know?" Ash was pressing and Blanca knew it.

But he would indulge. Of course. "I'm more dead than you are. You still can have a better life than this."

"Not how you suggest it. Have you really given up? Just content to live your life as a piece of shit that's useless?"

Blanca's eyes flew open.

"What are you even doing here, _then_ , if that's the case?" demanded Ash.

"Trying to keep a boy with all of your intelligence and little of your wisdom from getting himself—"

"So you do care?" Ash glared. _Did you care about me? Say you didn't. Say you did._

 _Please_. Blanca gave him books. He hugged him after he found out he'd been assaulted. He taught him how to protect himself. He broke Marvin's arm for trying to hurt Ash.

No one had ever stood up for him before.

 _I almost felt like I might matter to you, then. I didn't to my father. Or to Marvin. Or to my aunt. You were the only one who didn't look at me like a burden or a thing to fuck._ And when Blanca said he was retiring, moving away, Ash found himself expelled again the day of Blanca's flight, and that time he managed to find Griffin and a place to live, negotiate with Dino for limited freedom on the price of not getting into trouble again. But he had, and now he knew Dino would be circling, ready to take him in for that devil's bargain.

"You didn't even try," Ash choked out. When he saw Blanca the first time, he thought how this huge man was intimidating, how no one would mess with him, and how he wanted to be like that, be a walking example of bravery. "You're—a coward." _Why didn't you try to adopt me?_

"I wanted to. I just—" Blanca yanked at his ponytail. "I'm not fit to raise a child. I wish I was."

Ash let out a bitter laugh. "You're the same as my dad after all."

Blanca stiffened. "I left you," said Blanca. "Because I couldn't figure out how to help you while I was still there. You didn't want the police involved. I gave the rehab home Griffin was in your number when I left. I knew you'd run away from Marvin the second you heard Griffin was alive. Nothing would stop you when someone you loved was around. That was always evident, with you."

"What?" Ash gaped. _You did?_

"I want you to survive. I still do."

"If only it were that easy," Ash snapped.

"I—"

"Yut-Lung needs someone to take care of him. If you actually don't want to be a coward for once in your life, you'd do something instead of telling him to just comply with his filthy brothers. You need to _do something._ " His fists, clenched, shook. "Yut-Lung's doing something about it. He doesn't want to be their doll anymore. That's what he said. And I—you're not doing anything." Ash wanted to punch him. "And he sincerely believed you would be gone. Why aren't you? If what you just said is all how you really feel? Why aren't you gone? Why didn't you leave?"

"And you?" Blanca asked, staring into his cup of water. "Are you actually trying to free yourself, or are you trying to figure out the best way to die?"

Ash opened his mouth. _Who would even care? You? Too late. Dino? Only an—_

Max and Jessica, Michael. Shorter, Sing, Alex, Kong, Bones. Yut-Lung. And Eiji.

 _Is there another way?_

He couldn't handle it if any of them got hurt. His shoulders slumped. "I have Wang-Lung's files."

"So you're helping Yut-Lung, but not yourself."

Ash shrugged. "If I get that man taken down, Dino might be grateful and let me stay with Max and Jessica. Negotiate, like you recommended, right? Doesn't that make you happy? Isn't that what you wanted?" That was always his plan. It just—he knew if Max knew what he was doing, he'd be angry. He'd want him to cut things off with Dino cold-turkey. He wouldn't want Ash in Dino's sight again.

 _Max really cares._

That article was his only hope, and he was telling no one about it.

Blanca swallowed.

 _I shouldn't have to come up with the same plans as you_. But _should haves_ had never been relevant to his life. "Did you ever just want a normal life? Even if you knew it couldn't last?" Blanca had been a gifted child too.

"I did, and I tried to make one, and I lost her anyways."

"Then why do you still try to protect kids like me, or like Yut-Lung? Even if you're afraid to go all the way with it. What are you even playing at, then?"

Blanca just stared at him.

"Whatever. I'm going to sleep this off." Ash pushed past him. "You've got four guests, by the way, including me."

* * *

"Wake up."

Yut-Lung blinked.

Bright light scalded his eyes.

"Jesus!" Yut-Lung scrambled to his feet. "What the—" His head pounded. His stomach churned. How much had he had to drink? Probably the equivalent of a bottle. They'd emptied five of them together.

And then his jaw dropped as his sight took in the man standing in front of him. _Blanca?_

 _You're still here?_

Sing whimpered, rubbing at his eyes. Shorter moaned. Eiji looked like he was a zombie, skin ashen and eyes scarlet. Ash even had bags under his eyes.

 _You're still here_. Yut-Lung didn't know what to think.

"You're the _last_ person I want to see this early," mumbled Ash.

"It's one in the afternoon."

"What?" yelped Shorter. "Holy shit, Nadia's going to—"

"Lao is going to skin me alive," moaned Sing. He glanced at Yut-Lung. "Everything okay?" he asked in a lowered voice.

Yut-Lung nodded. "I guess he didn't leave," he mumbled.

"Oh no," Eiji whispered. "Ibe—"

"Text me if it's not okay," Sing said, clutching Yut-Lung's upper arm as he stumbled. "I'll text you, okay?"

Yut-Lung swallowed. _You care_.

Everyone shuffled out of the house. Yut-Lung hunched his shoulders. He didn't know what to say.

"Are you hungover?" asked Blanca.

"A little."

"Good." Blanca turned and walked back towards his bedroom.

"Why didn't you leave?" Yut-Lung called after him. His voice sounded hoarse.

Blanca turned around, stalling in the doorway. "It never occurred to me that you actually meant it."

"I—" Yut-Lung snapped his mouth closed. He didn't want to deny it. He didn't want to affirm it. _You stayed._

Blanca turned again and stalked back into Yut-Lung's room.

"What are you doing?" Yut-Lung asked.

Clinking echoed. Yut-Lung gaped.

"Throwing out all your alcohol," Blanca informed him, marching to the bathroom and pouring a bottle of rum down the sink.

"Excuse me?" Yut-Lung shrieked. "That's expensive!"

"Look," said Blanca, facing him. "Either you want me to be a parent or you want me to leave. Which is it?"

 _Either… or…_

A lump grew in Yut-Lung's throat. "Well then, I get to be an annoyed teenager who hates you for it!"

"Then I get to ground you."

"Then I get to sneak out!"

Blanca arched his eyebrows. "You can try."

Yut-Lung stormed back to his bed in a huff.


	8. Foxholes

Sing sucked in his breath as he approached his house. He dragged his feet. His brain still felt fuzzy, neurons clumped together with the remains of that wine. God, how much had he had?

"You gonna be all right?" Shorter asked, hands in his pockets.

Sing shrugged. "Lao's gonna be pissed, not that it really matters." If his mom was home, she'd probably be passed out in her room after drinking more alcohol than Sing had. And, if Sing was completely honest, Lao wasn't much better, which only made Sing feel more and more annoyed that his brother didn't seem to respect Sing's competence.

"He should come with us next time." Shorter frowned. "I miss him."

"He's the world's biggest killjoy. For every party I go to that he also attends, I have to listen to him lecture that much longer the next morning." Sing squinted, shielding his eyes from the sun. "I'm guessing Nadia's not like that."

"She's gonna just make my food extra spicy." Shorter groaned. "Plus, she was on her second date with Charlie last night. Or third."

 _"Charlie?"_ Sing gaped up at him. "Like, the cop? Our school cop?"

Shorter smirked. "If he hurts her, looks like I might have to fight a cop."

"Holy hell." Sing shook his head, sidestepping a puddle. He rubbed the back of his head. "That's kinda—"

"Wild, I know." Shorter glanced down at him. Sing felt so short. "Your brother probably just wants to protect you."

"Yeah, but I can protect myself." Sing kicked a rock. It skipped across the pavement, plopping in a puddle with a splash. "I don't need him to."

"I don't know if that matters to older siblings," said Shorter. "But I've always thought both of you were cool."

"Really?" Sing's heart picked up pace. Shorter might only be a few months older than he was, but he spent his life chasing after him, watching him, wanting to be tall and smart and to have everyone's confidence automatically just like him.

"Of course."

He didn't want to be scared of everything, like Lao, though Lao would never admit it. Shorter wasn't scared of anything. One time when his mother's then-boyfriend hit her, and then they left together, Nadia and Shorter came over when Lao called to say they didn't have any dinner. Sing was only eight, but he tried to hide the fact that he was crying. Shorter entertained him and Lao, telling jokes, distracting them.

 _I want to be like that. I want to be like you_.

Shorter got sent to juvie when they were fifteen, but only for a few months, where he met Ash, and when he started spending more time with Ash, Lao started scowling. And Sing remembered last year, when Ash called Shorter in the middle of history, and said he needed him. Must've been when his brother was shot. And Shorter got up in class and ignored their teacher, and when their teacher decided to be a bitch and block the door, he jumped out the window, earning a busted ankle and a suspension but Sing's admiration. Someone who would go so far for people he cared about… his mother and the father he'd never met were sure as shit nothing like that.

"See ya," said Shorter, waving as they arrived at Sing's place.

"Bye." Sing stomped up to the door, unlocking it.

"You," came Lao's voice. "Have some explaining to do."

"Please keep your voice down; I'm hungover." Sing shut the door behind him, making his way through the cluttered living room. Used glasses sat on a dented and chipped coffee table. The pool table was cluttered with school bags and books. The couch had a tear with stuffing bubbling out of it like a yellow science experiment. It was nothing like the luxury of Yut-Lung's place.

"You're what?"

"You've been hungover before; please don't start. It wasn't anywhere dangerous—I was at Yut-Lung's place with Shorter—"

"And Ash?"

Sing filled a clean glass with water from the sink. He winced. "What do you have against Ash exactly? Are you just jealous or—"

"He's dangerous."

"How, exactly? You're fine with Shorter. They're not that different. What is it about Ash?" Sing turned around to face his brother.

Lao stood, rubbing his eyes and the evidence of his own night drinking away. "I don't trust him."

"Why not? You gotta have a reason for hating someone, or—"

"He was a prostitute and he—"

Sing's breath hitched as he remembered what Yut-Lung said the night before. Lao would lose his shit if he knew. "You really think our mother isn't—"

"So, you want to follow in her—"

"I'm not—are you insane?" Sing glared at him. "You have no sympathy for people, do you? He's a cool guy. I see why he's Shorter's best friend now. You should trust Shorter a little more; I know you—"

"I trust him just fine."

"So it's _me_ you don't trust." Sing folded his arms. Something burned in the back of his neck, singeing his vertebrae, ashes fluttering down into his stomach. His abdomen clenched. "What did I ever do?" _Why am I not good enough?_

He wanted to be good enough. Like Shorter. Like Ash. He wanted to be strong, he wanted people to be able to depend on him, unlike his mother. He wanted to keep people safe.

"That's not it at all, Sing!" Lao glared at him. "You're acting like him now. Twisting my words—"

"You're acting like I'm some dumb kid who's easily—"

"You went out and got drunk—"

"That was Yut-Lung's idea and we were at his place, so it wasn't—"

"You—"

"Weren't you getting trashed _here?"_ Sing yelled. "Oh, what a great role model you are! You're such a hypocrite. Why would I take anything you say seriously? I can't rely on you worth shit, Lao. You would never have my back or anyone's. You're—"

Lao's face drained. His brow pinched. "I'm your older brother."

"By eleven months."

"So? Is it just because I'm your half-brother? That's it, isn't it?"

"Are you insane? Of course not!" Sing glared. "Why do you have to make everything about your insecurity?"

"Ash is—"

"You don't know him! You don't know any of them! You're a coward, because you don't want to get to know them! You prefer to keep everyone, me and Shorter and—everyone—in your box of what you think of us, instead of actually talking to us and getting to know us!" Sing pushed past him, storming towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Lao yelled.

"Out!" Sing screamed.

"Get back here!"

"No!" Sing slammed the door behind him. He took off, running, his skill throbbing with each footfall. He paused a few blocks down, catching his breath. And then he walked the rest of the way there, and he wasn't sure why this, of all places, was where he was going. He rang the doorbell.

The door swung open. Blanca looked down at him again. As if Sing really needed to feel smaller today. He scowled up at the huge man.

"Forget something?"

"Yeah, my brain. Are you gonna let me inside?"

Blanca stepped back, shaking his head. He bit his lip, but not before Sing spotted an amused smile. Weirdo.

"Sing?" Yut-Lung appeared on the staircase. "You're not sleeping it off?"

"It was come here or deal with Lao's lecture, and frankly the surroundings are better here." Sing shoved his hands into his pockets. He bit his lip. Blood dribbled out.

"Do you want tea?" asked Yut-Lung, heading down the stairs. He was wearing some sort of silk floral bathrobe.

"Sure." Sing followed him into the kitchen, which of course was spacious, airy curtains dangling over the windows, shiny appliances that looked as if they'd never been used reflecting his own face back to him.

"What did Lao say?" asked Yut-Lung. "That I'm a bad influence?" He set the kettle on the boil and perched on a stool at the island. Sing heaved himself up onto the other one.

"More that Ash is, but yeah, you too. I think. Which is funny since he was drinking all last night too." Sing pressed his lips together. "I think I was kinda harsh."

"You?" Yut-Lung's jaw dropped. His hair was half drawn up in a flip bun, strands falling haphazard around his face. A new look. He didn't look manufactured.

"Yeah," said Sing. "I told him he was a coward and he thought of me like someone to be protected, which he does, because he doesn't trust me." He gripped the counter. "I don't know what I did to make him not trust me."

"It's not you he doesn't trust," said Yut-Lung, studying Sing. "It's himself."

"Huh?" Sing gaped.

Yut-Lung hopped up as the kettle whistled. "You underestimate yourself, Sing Soo-Ling."

"I don't get it."

"You're comparing yourself with Shorter and with Ash—"

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are." Yut-Lung poured the tea. "I get it. I compare myself too." He frowned, handing Sing a mug. The soothing scent of jasmine filled the air. Steam warmed Sing's face. "He's mad he can't protect you. He's mad you don't need his protection. It makes him feel useless and left out."

Sing swallowed. He studied the soft green liquid. "But I've invited him to—"

"Doesn't matter." Yut-Lung met his eyes. Sing noticed the purple hue to his. "It's him, not you." He lowered his face.

"Are you talking about yourself?" Sing asked, snorting. "As well as Lao?"

"You're be surprised how universal some things are."

"I don't think I'd be surprised." Sing sipped. "Hey, this is good."

Yut-Lung's head snapped up. "You like it?"

"Yeah. I like it."

 _I never know what you make of you. Sometimes you're like a child, and sometimes you're like a snake. Which is the real you? Or are they both you, coexisting side by side?_

 _I wish you didn't have to be a snake as much_.

Yut-Lung would have struck him as someone who really couldn't care for himself. And yet, given what he said last night, he was stronger than Sing in some ways. If only Lao could see that.

"What?" asked Yut-Lung.

"Nothing." Sing gulped more tea. "Why do you wear your hair long? I mean, it looks good. I'm just wondering."

"My mother always had long hair. Before she died. I wanted to look like her." Yut-Lung closed his eyes. "I do, supposedly."

"Well, you sure don't look like those ugly brothers of yours," Sing remarked. "Lao and I were both just saying we don't want to be like our mother."

"I don't want to be like my brothers. Or my father, I suppose, but I don't really—I never really knew him. Not well, at least. He treated us well, but—" Yut-Lung stopped.

"But what?" asked Sing.

"He was seventy when I was born, and my mother was fifteen." Yut-Lung hunched over. "I really shouldn't have been born, but she loved me."

Sing stared. _God_. He couldn't imagine being— "That doesn't make you bad by default."

"I hope not."

"It doesn't."

"I'm starting to hope so." Yut-Lung rolled his eyes. "And same to you. Wherever you came from. You're smart and talented and people like you."

 _I am?_ Sing smiled.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Because—never mind." _You're more than I thought. Smarter. Braver. And kinder._ No way in hell he was saying that aloud.

"Don't doubt yourself," Yut-Lung said.

"Now you're getting disgustingly sappy." _Or really, I am._

"Excuse me?"

"I said what I said."

"Hmph!"

* * *

"Ibe's going to be so mad at me," Eiji lamented. "I can't believe I was so irresponsible."

"You don't have to tell him you were drinking, you know," Ash pointed out as he followed Eiji into Ibe's house. For whatever reason, he said Max wouldn't be worried, which Eiji was pretty sure was code for he would be very worried and Ash didn't want to deal with it, or thought Max should have to deal with something.

"People don't like being left in the dark," Eiji said. "It's hurtful."

Ash's jaw fell open. "How so?"

"Because people want to be trusted." Eiji unlocked the door. Ibe didn't look to be home. He found a note and read it. He laughed.

"What?" Ash peered over his shoulder.

 _Went to lunch at Max's._

"Shit," said Ash.

"Max probably wants you to trust him," said Eiji. " _I_ want you to trust me." He was willing to bet Ash had talked to Blanca last night, after he got sick. He could tell from the pinched look on Ash's face in the morning, from the way he held his shoulders.

"What are you talking about?" Ash flopped onto their couch. Eiji sat next to him.

"What happened last night?"

"I slept."

"You talked to Blanca. I heard you."

"And then I slept."

Eiji glowered.

"Well, now I feel like I kicked a puppy," Ash mumbled. Eiji snorted. "Hey Eiji?"

"Yeah?"

"You know I'm not a hero like you think. Even if I stood up for you. I'm a coward in a lot of ways."

Eiji blinked. "I don't think that at all."

"But I am. Griffin's death—I'm selfish, I valued my own freedom from—Golzine—over—my own body and over his life—"

"You didn't make that choice," Eiji interrupted. "You couldn't have known."

Ash stared down at his hands. "I should have."

"Dammit," said Eiji.

"Did you swear?"

"You can't know everything. You shouldn't have to."

"Well, I _have_ had to, to survive."

"You don't have to right now."

"What would you know about that?" Ash demanded.

"I know that I care, and I'm here, and so does Shorter, and Yut-Lung, and Sing, and Max and Jessica. We all want to help you. We don't care. We don't want you hurt like that ever again."

Ash stared at him, jade eyes huge. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to kill someone, Eiji? Maybe it is what I deserve. Maybe—" The words came pained. "Maybe—no one ever wanted me, not my mom or my father, so—when my baseball coach—when I shot him—I planned it out. I knew what I was doing. And I didn't feel anything. And then I was terrified because—because I felt nothing, which was all—" He gripped his knees. His arms shook. Something dripped onto his hands.

 _Ash_.

"You—you're terrified of yourself, too," Ash choked out. "But for _good_ things. You're terrified you might not be—I'm—"

"You're not bad," Eiji interrupted. "Don't say that you are." His heart pounded.

 _I'm afraid of myself?_

He could feel the pole in his hand, heavy.

"I think you're amazing," Ash said. "You look down on yourself, you see yourself as a burden, but no one sees you like that. I can tell Ibe loves you like a son. Shorter thinks you're great. And I—I don't want to—hurt you in any way, by dragging you into my world, because no matter what I do, the things I've done will never go away. I killed someone, Eiji. I stabbed three more people and wound up in juvie. I've slept with hundreds of people. I even asked for it, sometimes." The words vomited out of him _._ "I want to protect you, I—"

"Someone should have been protecting you," Eiji interrupted. "You didn't ask for it. You offered yourself like a sacrifice because you didn't think you were worth anything else, but—"

"And what exactly am I—"

"—worth?" Eiji looked at him. It hurt him. He wanted to tear apart the skin entrapping Ash, held him break out, escape the hatred he could hear saturating every word. "Everything. You—you give me hope. You make me feel like I can do something. Like I—you're hope for me. And I want to protect that, too. I'm just—really bad at it." Eiji's throat closed up. He looked down, face burning.

He felt weight on his lap. Blonde. And then he realized Ash had dropped his head onto his thighs. Ash's shoulders shook. "Say by my side. It doesn't have to be forever. Just for now." The words came out scared. An offering.

"Forever," Eiji said. "Well, providing the consulate is generous with my visa. Otherwise you have to come to Japan."

Ash snorted. He pulled himself up. "What's Japan like?"

Eiji brightened.

The sun was low in the sky, scarlet rivulets flaming out over the horizon, when Ash suddenly widened his eyes, and Eiji turned to see Ibe and Max watching them. He'd been showing Ash pictures from his hometown, and Ash's head leaned against his shoulder, and his head rested on Ash's.

"Hi!" exclaimed Eiji. "Ibe-san, I didn't realize you—"

"It's fine," Ibe said. He and Max exchanged a smile.

Ash's face flushed.

* * *

Eiji waited for Ash in the school parking lot on Monday. The wind blew strong, and gray clouds lumbered overhead, bloated and distended.

Ibe-san hadn't been angry at him. Eiji didn't understand why. He almost wished he would be. He was used to failing standards, and this freedom felt terrifying, like he could fall and spiral. But he had at least told him not to drink again, and taken Eiji at his word when he said he didn't plan to.

Ash adjusted his red and blue sweatshirt. His hair looked like gold against it. Eiji smiled.

"What?" Ash asked.

"Nothing." Eiji ducked his head as they entered.

Hushed whispers rippled through the halls. Eiji spotted Yut-Lung leaning against his locker, a bored look on his face, which Eiji now knew meant he was listening to absolutely everything being said around him.

"My brother's office was broken into," Yut-Lung told them. "How _shocking_."

Ash coughed. Yut-Lung's lips quivered as if he was trying not to laugh.

"My oh my," said Sing, wandering up to them. Lao scowled. "I _do_ hope whoever did it is caught and appropriately punished."

"Indeed," said Yut-Lung, flipping his hair over his shoulder. "How _truly terrifying."_

Calculus was tolerable. Eiji passed a quiz, but his mind was bouncing elsewhere, buzzing with anxiety. What if the security cameras actually did work? What if someone knew? This sort of thing could definitely get him expelled. And Ibe-san surely would be mad at him then, right?

 _I always disappoint._ Eiji drummed his pencil against his desk until Sing hissed at him to stop.

"Sing," called Lao after the bell rang and they emptied the classroom, streaming into the hallways. Sing took off, leaving Yut-Lung and Eiji together.

A hand landed on Eiji's shoulder, and one on Yut-Lung's. "Scandalous," whispered Arthur's voice. "Two of the most innocent-looking students, guilty of such a crime."

Both of them whirled around.

"You're batshit insane," said Yut-Lung.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Eiji stammered.

Arthur crossed his arms. He tilted his head to the side. "Well, it's a good thing that neither of you have criminal records, so I'm guessing you'll just be expelled. But Ash and Shorter? It'll be back to juvie for them. Sing Soo-Ling, too. He doesn't have money."

"You have a career as a fiction writer," Yut-Lung informed him. "How unexpected. I thought you'd wind up unemployed and living on friends' couches for the rest of your life. Congratulations."

Eiji gulped. "That's a ridiculous charge."

"Is it?" Arthur cocked his head. "Fine, I have no proof. But I have it on good authority it was you."

"You're definitely not a future lawyer," Yut-Lung opined, eyes flashing purple flames. "You are truly stupid, Frederick Arthur. Don't play with me. You'll lose."

"Maybe you should all just confess," said Arthur.

"And why would anyone do such a thing, confessing to something they didn't do?" Yut-Lung stuck his nose up in the air. "Come on, Eiji." He reached for Eiji's elbow.

"Did you know Ash used to be a kiddie porn star? I got those tapes. If you don't confess, everyone will know. I personally think he'd prefer jail, don't you?"

Eiji halted. His vision swam.

Yut-Lung paled. "Go to hell, Arthur. You know that's illegal, right? You'll be the one in jail, you fucking pervert."

"Why? Got tapes of your own?" Arthur's lips curved. "Bet you're lucky, Eiji. He knows all kinds of—"

Eiji broke away from Yut-Lung's grasp, marching straight up to Arthur. He remembered the shame in Ash's eyes, like on last Saturday, the look, the blaming— _it's not your fault, it's not your fault, it's these bastards!_

His fist shot out of his own accord, like he was throwing a pole into the ground, like he was about to levitate himself meters and meters off the ground. There was no mat to catch him. And he wasn't the one falling. Arthur was. Eiji's knuckles stung. Blood smeared them.

Silence. The light gleamed off the white tiles.

Arthur gaped up at him from where he was sprawled on the floor, blood streaming from his nostrils. "You— _bitch!"_

"There's more where that came from," Yut-Lung informed him. He stomped on Arthur's crotch.

 _Holy—_

A fist slammed into the back of Eiji's skull. He stumbled.

 _"Eiji!"_ yelled Yut-Lung.

And then it was chaos. One of Arthur's friends pinned Eiji to the lockers. The other send a fist into his stomach. Eiji doubled over. He retched. Arthur lunged for Yut-Lung, grabbing him by the hair. "You fucking—cunt—"

"Fuck off, Arthur!" Shorter's voice bellowed. He grabbed Arthur, trying to pry him off Yut-Lung. Yut-Lung clawed at his throat, face turning red, swelling.

A green eye appeared over the shoulder of the kid who punched Eiji's abdomen. He shrieked as an arm closed around his neck, forcing him into a headlock.

"Ash!" Eiji kicked out, breaking free from the guy pinning him.

Ash decked the other boy in the chest. "Eiji!" He jumped in front of the boy still trying to get at Eiji. The boy kicked Ash in the groin. Ash still hit him in the throat.

Arthur threw Shorter to the ground. Shorter's leg flew up, kicking him in the chin. Yut-Lung shoved him.

"Stop it!" Sing's voice ripped through the air. He tried to lunge at them. Arms wrapped around Sing, holding him back. Lao.

More shouting. Footsteps pounding. Someone twisted Eiji's arm behind his back—two of them had Ash—

"Break it up!" Charlie bellowed. Jenkins raced out of his classroom, ripping the other kid away from Eiji.

"Make one more move, Arthur, I dare you!" Jenkins shouted, jabbing his finger into Arthur's throat. Yut-Lung cowered against the wall, gagging.

Ash kept struggling. Charlie yanked him off the other kid. Ash flailed until Charlie slammed Ash back against the wall. "Don't fight me, Ash!"

Shorter moaned, picking himself up off the floor. Yut-Lung shrank back, staring at someone in front of them.

Eiji gulped. He lifted his gaze.

Wang-Lung Lee gaped at them all.

Yut-Lung cringed. Eiji tried to catch his breath. His stomach ached. His jaw throbbed. _What have I done?_

"My office," said Wang-Lung, focusing on Ash, whose face was starting to drain as if realizing how fucked they all were. " _Now_."


	9. Sheep for the Slaughter

"We're dead," said Shorter.

"Only if we're lucky," said Yut-Lung miserably.

Eiji doubled over, pressing his hands over his mouth. He looked like he was about to be sick. Ash wished he could reach over, put his hand on Eiji's shoulder, comfort him. But he couldn't.

They'd all been sent to Dr. Meredith's, to treat their scrapes and bruises, and then to wait in his office while Arthur and co met with Wang-Lung. Ash would bet anything they were calling their parents. He pulled a knee up to his chest. He wondered if Blanca would show up or leave Yut-Lung to Wang-Lung's mercy. _You better show, asshole._

Yut-Lung trembled. Shorter reached out and squeezed Yut-Lung's knee. Yut-Lung started. "You'll be okay. If you gotta run away in the end, you gotta run away. Nadia and I will take you in."

"Huh?" Yut-Lung's jaw dropped.

"Friends," said Shorter. "We take care of each other."

Ash swallowed. "I won't let him do that to you, Yut-Lung." He knew exactly what Yut-Lung was thinking. Wang-Lung might use this to get custody and control of him back, purely out of spite. _Blanca, if you let Wang-Lung do that, I'm going to fight you myself._

Yut-Lung's purple eyes filled with tears. Eiji smiled at him.

Footsteps sounded outside the door. They all fell silent. The doorknob twisted. Charlie stepped inside, mouth pressed together, face gray. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it. His gaze surveyed them all one by one. "What happened?"

No one spoke. Charlie exhaled. "Please talk."

"Did they call our guardians?" asked Ash. "Since none of us live with our parents."

Charlie nodded. "You're all in serious trouble."

"What's new," Shorter said.

Charlie rolled his eyes. "What happened?" he asked again.

More silence.

"Arthur is saying you threw the first punch, Eiji," Charlie prompted.

"That's bullshit," Ash cut in. "Eiji would never." He didn't give a fuck what happened to him. Eiji had better not get expelled. He was a good kid. He needed this chance, this hope, this time away from Japan.

Yut-Lung stiffened. Eiji's eyes squeezed together as if he was about to cry.

"Tell me what happened," Charlie said. "No matter what it was, I know you four. I know something is going on. Arthur's also saying you were involved in what happened to Wang-Lung's office. Is that true?"

All of them studied their shoes.

"No," offered Yut-Lung.

"Fuck," Charlie said, obviously realizing that they had. "Look, as a cop. Don't say a word about that. I mean it. But please tell the truth about what happened today, every last bit of it. Don't—"

 _Are you actually trying to help us?_ Ash squinted up at him. He didn't understand. "No offense, Charlie, but I don't think it matters, and I don't think you need to pretend that it does."

"Be honest with _me_ , at least," Charlie requested. "Please." He gripped his forehead.

"Why?" Ash demanded. "Why would I be? No offense, Charlie. I know you're a good guy, but—"

 _No one really tries to help us. Not kids like us._ When he started at the school, Charlie held out his hand, told him not to be afraid of him, chattered about how he wouldn't treat Ash any differently. And Ash couldn't believe him. He'd thought the same about Dino at first, and then he'd know. Not that Charlie was anything like Dino, but he couldn't help them, no matter how he wanted to. He just couldn't. The odds were too stacked against him.

A knock on the door. Suk-Leui. She gestured. Charlie sighed. "Line up."

The four of them lined up, and Charlie marched them down the hallway. Ash reached out, brushing his fingers against Eiji's. Eiji glanced over his shoulder. "Thank you," he whispered.

 _You're gonna be okay._

They entered Wang-Lung's office. The walls were bare and covered with putty. The desk was cheap, from IKEA. Chairs were arranged in a semi-circle around Wang-Lung's desk. Max and Ibe, Nadia and Blanca all sat, not one of them looking remotely pleased. Ash watched as Yut-Lung heaved a sigh of relief at the sight of the man in his white suit. Well, maybe Blanca did care. Nadia looked up at Charlie, her eyes wide in alarm.

"Have a seat," said Wang-Lung. They each sat next to their guardians. Ash glanced up at Max. Max's jaw worked. Nadia narrowed her eyes at Shorter. Ibe rubbed Eiji's back. Blanca shook his head at Yut-Lung. "I've heard their side of the story already. Now I want to hear yours."

Silence. _I'll just bet you do_.

"We saw—I mean, Ash and I were heading to our lockers and we saw Arthur strangling Yut-Lung with his hair, and those two other goons punching Eiji," said Shorter. "So we got involved."

Wang-Lung leaned forward, a sick smile on his smug face. "You didn't break up the fight. You punched back."

"He was beating up my friends. He was choking your brother. Yeah, I kicked him." Shorter glanced at Nadia, folding his arms and slouching in defiance. "I wasn't going to let him hurt my friends."

"Arthur said you punched him first, Eiji Okumura," said Wang-Lung.

 _Oh, no you don't._ "That's not true," Ash cut in. Of course Arthur was going after Eiji to get to him. _I'm trash; I pollute everyone!_

"You weren't there," Wang-Lung reminded him, gaze as hard as flint. "Unless you did see it?"

 _Fuck you_. "No, I—"

"I did," Eiji interrupted. "I mean, I punched Arthur first. That's true." He shook all over. "But he—provoked me. With a threat."

 _What?_ Ash's mouth fell open. _Eiji?_

Blanca nodded as if impressed. Ibe gaped at Eiji, looking just as dumbstruck as Ash felt. "Ei-chan?"

"What was his threat?"

"I can't tell you," Eiji whispered. He leaned over, hanging his head. Yut-Lung studied his shoes.

"What?" Shorter burst out. "Eiji—"

"Arthur has other accusations as well," said Wang-Lung. "Namely, that you are the crew who broke into my office over the weekend and trashed—"

"Why would we do that?" Ash demanded. "We have nothing to gain."

"You tell me, smart-mouth."

"Ash, don't," hissed Max.

"You've been bending the rules since you got here. We were warned about how dangerous you were, how you use your IQ not for good but to do whatever you want, whenever you want. Do you ever think about how other people feel, you arrogant punk?"

"That's some hypocrisy," Ash shot back. _What else am I supposed to do? "_ If I remember, I haven't been accused of anything that checks out besides the first day when I broke Arthur's hand."

"And you're still bragging about it like a psychopathic—"

"Don't you dare talk to him like that," Max interrupted. He leaned forward, too, glaring at Wang-Lung.

 _What?_ Ash gaped at him.

"Don't treat him like that," Max repeated. "You've been biased against Ash since he started here, so I'm going to venture that the problem isn't with him but with you. Do you even have any proof that they broke into your office?"

"Arthur said—"

"Arthur, who's already been suspended for bullying three times in the past year?" Max scowled. "Meanwhile, Ash is under constant threat of expulsion when he's been set up before, just last week for the fire. You really think I'm going to sit here and let you treat him like this, let you insult him with terms that—"

"I can handle myself," Ash hissed.

"No, Ash, shut up. You can't."

Ash's mouth fell open. Wang-Lung looked as if he was about to explode in an apoplectic rage.

"Why would we even break in here?" Yut-Lung spoke up. He twisted his hands in his lap. "I mean, there's nothing to be gained, and you're my brother. I would never—"

"Brother?" Wang-Lung rose, his face swelling purple. He let out a bitter, cracking laugh that sent shards of glass cutting all of them. Ash watched Yut-Lung flinch. "I don't even know what you are or are not capable of anymore, Yut-Lung, but you certainly don't act like a brother to me. You only answer my texts when it's convenient, and you throw hissy fits when you want to. I know you leaked Ash's history the first time, and yet here you sit defending him like a snake finding greener grass every time the clouds change. I'm ashamed to call you my blood. Our father would be disgusted—"

"That's enough," snapped Max.

"I quite agree," Blanca said, voice clipped.

 _Holy hell._

"Enough, Wang-Lung. He's not your responsibility. He's mine." Blanca stood then, an imposing presence towering over Wang-Lung, and he stepped to his left, in front of Yut-Lung as if shielding him.

 _You…_ Ash couldn't speak.

"And if that's how you treat your brother in front of others, I'm horrified to think how you'd treat him behind closed doors," Nadia said. She rose, too.

"I agree," Charlie said. "That was uncalled for."

"I know what Yut-Lung did at the beginning of the semester, anyways," Ash said. "He apologized. We've put it behind us."

Wang-Lung looked as if he was struggling not to strangle Yut-Lung himself. The boy couldn't even look at him. "Fine, then. You're all suspended for three days. You can come back Friday. And Okumura, Callenreese, Wong: you are all on your last strike. Next time, I'll expel you, and if I get any proof you were involved in this trashing of my office, I'll see to it that you never stain my halls again. Okumura and Yut-Lung, I still expect to see you at the event on Friday."

Eiji nodded.

"So you'll still use them?" Max demanded.

 _Dino's event._ Realization jolted Ash. _Arthur—he threatened me, didn't he?_

 _Eiji! I'm not worth it!_

He was being grouped with people like Ash and Shorter, people whom— _Eiji—_

"You're dismissed. I'll speak with you later," Wang-Lung added to his brother.

"No," Blanca said sweetly, hands clasping Yut-Lung's shoulders. "You won't. He'll be there on Friday, but in the meantime I think you need to think about how to control your temper."

 _You're changing._

 _You are?_

The eight of them marched outside the school, Charlie escorting them. Nadia wouldn't look at him.

"Eiji," hissed Ash as they made it to the parking lot. Eiji turned. "What did Arthur threaten?"

"It doesn't matter."

"That's a lie," Ash said. "I know it was about me. You know it was about me. Tell me." _Please, please!_

"It's nothing I didn't already know—just more about your past—"

Of course. He'd never be able to escape. The chains were always there, and no one could stop them from chafing at him, and everyone would eventually hear the clanking and see the festering wounds they'd left, no matter what he did to hide. "So, tell—"

"I thought you might not want—"

 _That's not the point!_ "I don't, and I appreciate it, but I'm not worth your fu—"

"You are!" Eiji shouted. Ibe and Max turned to watch. Yut-Lung and Blanca, too. His eyes glinted like charcoal alight. "You _are_ worth it to me, Ash." He climbed into Ibe's passenger seat, slamming the door.

"Let's go, Ash," Max said softly. His hand landed on Ash's shoulder.

Ash just stared after Eiji. Ibe pulled out of the parking lot. _Why? How?_

 _It's my fault._

 _You're mad at me, and you're willing to deal with all of this to protect me?_

 _Eiji..._

"Let's go," Max repeated.

 _"Ash!"_

He froze. _That_ voice. _That_ man. He clutched the open car door. Max halted, halfway into his seat.

"I heard Wang-Lung Lee suspended you," said Dino, striding across the parking lot with his cane elegantly clutched. "For fighting. You're better than that, Ash." He tutted, and strings broke from him, wrapping themselves around Ash's throat. He wanted to gag.

 _Better…_

According to what? A stupid test with some numbers? The fact that he was pretty? That he was gifted? That he was Dino's favorite fuck toy? Better at sucking dick? Better at what, exactly? _I caused this fight, and I don't even know how!_

"I hope to see you at the gathering on Friday," Dino continued. "We'll need a few students, and your story would do well."

"I don't think Mr. Lee would like that," Ash forced himself to say. His stomach churned. He clutched the car door so tightly his knuckles cracked.

"I will talk to him," said Dino, resting his hands on the gilded top of his cane. "Don't worry about a thing, Ash."

 _Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck._

"I'm Dino Golzine," the man said, extending his hand towards Max. "You must be Max Lobo."

"Indeed," Max said. "I am."

"You're invited then, too." Dino beamed. "It'd be good to have his foster father there." He nodded, and then continued on into the school.

Dino knew. How did he know? Surely Wang-Lung hadn't called him and told him Ash was in trouble just yet. They hated each other. Didn't they? If not... then what exactly was going on?

"Ash?" Max asked.

Ash slammed the car door, hunching up inside. "He knows you're writing a story on him." And so far Ash hadn't quite been able to decipher if there was anything useful in Wang-Lung's information. He needed to work harder. Faster. Be better. Better. Give it to Max ASAP, so that he wouldn't—so that—

"Ash?" Max demanded, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the street.

He was doubled over, trying to breath. He could feel Dino's hands on his face, choking him, forcing his mouth open, and he—

Max swore. He pulled over, leaving the emergency lights blinking. He scrambled out of the car.

 _Does it hurt?_

What a joke. Everything crumpled around him, the car caving in, the seat swallowing him whole, the fabric of the interior gluing itself to his skin, and—

 _It hurts, it hurts, it hurts._

The car door opened. Max reached out, grabbing his hand. Ash leaned over. He gagged, vomiting onto the pavement. Max held his hair back. His stomach kept heaving even though he surely couldn't have anything left in it. The muscles spasmed. His throat burned from acid. His eyes stung from tears.

"Here." Max handed him a tissue. He wiped at Ash's eyes with a tissue of his own.

Ash yanked himself back. "I'm not a child."

"Oh, no?" Max asked. "Because I think that's exactly what you are."

"Sorry," Ash mumbled. His stomach calmed. He sucked in the cold air of late autumn. "I'm—okay now."

"Okay." Max shut the car door and jogged around to the other side. Ash leaned against the car window, closing his eyes, wishing dreamland would reach up and carry him away.

 _Eiji, why won't you trust me?_

 _Why is it always me?_

When they got to the house, Ash shrugged off Max's attempts to help him walk like he was in need of a cane himself. "Aren't you going to scold me? For fighting?"

"I think there are more important things at the moment than trying to scold you for not doing what I wanted you to do."

"Like what?" Ash let out a laugh. "Don't you know? Haven't you figured it out already? Or are you such a shit reporter you can't figure out that the guy you're investigating really likes little boys with blonde hair and green eyes? And that's why Arthur hates me?" He knew Max knew. Jessica confirmed it. And he hated them for it, even though he was the one who as good as told Max. None of what he was saying made sense, but he wanted to scream it, hurt, _it hurts it hurts it hurts._

Max closed the door behind him. He didn't look away from Ash. He looked at him, brow lowered, gaze like a rain cloud on a summer afternoon, sad and comforting.

"As if I wanted it," Ash said. He laughed again. Maybe that would make Max think he did. He'd never acted how someone who was a victim was supposed to act, right? He was too strong, too smart, to be in such a stupid predicament. He hated himself. He only ever did the right thing when his father dragged him to the cops, and then they did nothing, so he turned tricks on his father's advice. Of course everyone would think a prostitute wanted it.

He spotted a bookshelf, a mantle with family photos. He wanted to throw them all on the ground, stomp on them, break the glass, bleed. He wanted to break them, break himself, break all of it. _How am I so stupid?_

He was beautiful, and he was disgusting. Molded, rotting garbage on the inside. They must have known. They could tell. Somehow.

He stayed frozen by the staircase. Unable to move. Like back then. Like now. Like always. Trapped, imprisoned, slave, toy. "The first guy I stayed with, at a foster home, who introduced me to Dino—he raped me every single day, multiple times a day."

Max said nothing.

"The only thing Dino thinks I have a brain for is sucking dick. And that guy, that first guy—well, not the first, but the one I mentioned before—you know what he asked me once? If it hurt." Ash clutched his ribcage, laughing wildly, the sound ripping and ripping apart a family's safe haven with his rotten presence. " _Does it hurt?_ I wasn't even a person to him. I was a thing. He didn't think we had feelings. And Dino's no different; he just did it in beds with down comforters as opposed to skeezy motels. I'm just their toilet. For flushing away their semen." He couldn't stop laughing. It broke out of him, choking him, not letting him breathe.

Ash turned and tried to move up the stairs. He grabbed a photo, that photo, the one with Griffin in it, ripping it off the wall. He wanted to stab his brother's face through, so that he wouldn't have to hear this, wouldn't have to listen to it.

But he couldn't break the frame. His hands tightened around it. Laughs kept coming, bruising his throat.

He crumpled on the stairway, holding the photo to his chest.

"Ash." He felt arms wrapping around him, someone holding him to their chest. Max.

And he broke. Sobs tore from his mouth. _I'm scared. I'm scared. I'm so scared._

Max didn't speak. And then Ash felt something wet on his shoulder and looked up to see Max crying, too. Holding him. Like when he had nightmares and Griffin came. Like the time he woke Griffin up, when he was three, on Christmas morning because he was so sure Santa would bring his mother back, and when that didn't happen, he was crying. And Griffin held him. Like the time Blanca found him after Marvin raped him, and didn't tell him to fix himself up, but let him break down.

"He'd be—ashamed of me," Ash choked out. "Wouldn't he be?" He held up the photo.

" _No_ ," Max insisted. "Ash, he wouldn't be." He kept hold of Ash. He wasn't letting him go. And Ash didn't feel like fighting. He felt like bleeding out, and if Max wanted to hold him, he couldn't stop him.

I'm _ashamed of me_. "Everything—that happened to me—comes back to hurt—the people I care about," Ash managed. "Eiji—I know Arthur threatened me, somehow, and he—"

"Ibe will talk to him," Max said, still holding him. "He's doing it to protect you, Ash."

"I don't need—"

" _He_ does, and I don't think you believe that makes him weak. Why can't you need to be protected too, sometimes?"

Ash squeezed his eyes together. He shook all over.

Max rubbed his back. "You're not a toilet."

"To them I am."

"That just proves how stupid and shitty they are. You're not a toilet, you're not an animal, you're a human. You're a sixteen-year-old boy who's been through too much, who shouldn't have to be this strong. You're a kid who should be able to act like a kid."

"I'm not."

"They're all blind, and evil. You're not. No matter what they did to you, it doesn't taint you."

"I feel like it does."

"I know." Max stroked his hair as he sobbed. "I know."

Ash wasn't sure how long he sat there, crying like a baby. When he pulled back, he wiped at his nose. "I don't know if I can believe that. What you say."

"Jessica and I plan to stay with you anyways."

Ash gulped.

"Wait here." Max got up, heading back down the stairs. He returned with a glass of water, pressing it into Ash's hand. "Drink."

Ash tried to sip the water.

"You're safe here," Max said.

"I'm not," Ash croaked. He tried to focus on the clear water swirling around in the glass. "I'm not safe anywhere. He'll—"

"You're not going to that event—"

"I have to, or he'll come after you and Jessica and Michael. Somehow. He's got all sorts of shady connections with law enforcement and politicians." Ash met Max's eyes. "I won't let him hurt you."

Max narrowed his gaze. "That's not your responsibility."

"The hell it—"

"It isn't. We knew the risks when we took you in. You're like a son to me, and I'm not letting you put yourself in danger!"

Ash gaped up at him.

" _Next time someone tries something like that, just let them," his father told him. "But make sure they pay for it."_

 _You really—don't want me to_ —

"It's worse than you think," Ash whispered.

"Oh?" Max arched his eyebrows.

"I did break into Wang-Lung's office. We all did. And I stole information off his computer to try and help your article."

Max moaned, covering his face.

"It's all in Chinese, though. Yut-Lung and Shorter and Sing are helping me translate it, but it's slow going."

"Don't confess to _anything_ ," Max warned.

"I'm not planning on it." Ash looked up at him. "But I want to help. I told you. And now he's using Arthur to threaten Eiji—I can't let him—"

"Ibe and I are going to come up with a plan." Max scowled.

"I have to go to the party," Ash said. "Yut-Lung and Eiji—they'll both be there. Wang-Lung is not any different than Dino when it comes to Yut-Lung, except I don't think he does anything to Yut-Lung himself. Eiji—Dino's circling him. I can't take that risk. I care about them. And Eiji—"

"If I try to hold you back, you'll sneak out, won't you?"

Ash swallowed. "Probably."

"Okay," said Max, holding Ash's shoulder. "Then _we'll_ go. You and Eiji stick by me, though, understand? Please. I realize you don't fully trust me or my competence yet, but—just trust me in that."

Ash nodded. _You're going into a hellish atmosphere to help me?_ "Okay," he whispered.

"I am not going to let him hurt you again. I'm not going to let him hurt Eiji, or Yut-Lung, or any of your friends."

How noble. And yet Blanca—well, he'd never directly promised that. But he'd taught Ash to endure, to fight back. _I want to believe you_. "Aren't I just creating trouble for you? Wouldn't you rather—"

"No," Max broke in. "You're not. I mean, yes, you're creating trouble. But I don't give a damn about that. You're someone I care about too. Jessica's given me a ton of headaches throughout the years, and yet she's worth it. Aren't your friends sometimes creating trouble for you? Eiji?"

"I don't think of it as trouble," Ash said. "Well, mostly not." Except that time last year when Shorter was drunk and lost at three in the morning and Ash had to find him and drag him home.

"Exactly," Max said, and Ash believed him.


	10. Behemoth

"Don't look at me like that," Ibe said with a sigh. He fumbled with his keys on the doorstep. "I'm not going to yell at you."

Eiji gulped. He wrung his hands. "But I did—mess up."

"I know." Ibe twisted the key in the lock. "What did he say? Who did he threaten?"

"Not me," Eiji assured, following Ibe into the house. He could only imagine what his mother and father would think if they knew he'd been suspended. They'd probably want him to come home, say Ash and Shorter and the rest were bad influences.

Was anyone ever a bad influence, or was it more about how insecure you were?

They weren't bad influences. When he was with them, he felt like he could. Could do something, anything, could live.

He still shouldn't have punched Arthur. He just didn't know what to do. And he was tired, so tired, of feeling helpless. Helpless when he watched his mother work hours upon hours, to the point where he only saw her a few times a week, bags present under her eyes. Helpless as he watched his father's skin yellow, watched him vomit, suffer in pain, ambulance ride after ambulance ride. Helpless, when he looked up at a bar set so low he could have once jumped it in his sleep, and he put his pole down on the ground and walked away.

"So, Ash," Ibe concluded.

Eiji lowered his chin.

It was strange to think a boy like Ash—someone so gifted, so talented, so capable—was so vulnerable. And yet he knew he was, and he wasn't sure what was a facade, whether Ash wanted to be untouchable, or to be a broken child.

He heard him that night in Yut-Lung's house. He'd woken up shortly after throwing up to find Ash gone from the room, and staggered down the stairs at the sound of Ash's voice. He heard Ash calling out that guardian of Yut-Lung's, Blanca.

 _You're braver than you think, and not in ways you know of, Ash._

"Are you romantically involved?" Ibe asked.

Eiji's jaw fell open. "What?"

"It doesn't matter to me if you are," Ibe rushed to say. "I was just—curious."

Eiji shook his head. "No. We're not."

Ibe gestured for Eiji to sit at the kitchen table. He obeyed. "Do you want to be?"

Eiji's face flamed. He met Ibe's gaze. He nodded.

 _I guess so._

 _I do love him._

Ibe's face broke into a smile.

"What?" Eiji asked.

"It's the first time I've heard you say you wanted anything," said Ibe. "Since ever."

Eiji's eyes widened. He was sure that couldn't be true. He wanted to win, when he jumped.

No, he wanted to live up to expectations.

He wanted to come to America.

No, he wanted a change of pace.

"What do you want?" Eiji asked.

"You to smile again," Ibe said bluntly.

"Why?" Eiji couldn't believe he was being so bold with an elder like this.

Ibe sighed. "Your photo helped me get my break. I felt—guilty that afterwards, I got the fame while you, when the photo was all about you—when you couldn't jump anymore—"

"Ibe-san, it's not your fault," Eiji interrupted.

"It doesn't matter," Ibe said. "I want you to live a happy life. Ash is good for you."

Eiji didn't know what to say. _Really? You care about me? You want to be involved?_

"Please try to understand," Ibe said. "I'm on your side. Max is on Ash's side. We want to help you. Let us help you with whatever Arthur is threatening. You don't have to do everything alone."

Eiji's eyes stung.

* * *

"Are you mad?" Shorter asked.

"No."

"Are you proud?" he ventured.

" _No_."

"Are you sad?"

Nadia glowered at him. "What do you think?"

"They were really strangling Yut-Lung," Shorter said, following Nadia into their apartment. Charlie gave them a ride, and Shorter noticed that Nadia didn't give him a particularly warm goodbye. _Please don't be having problems because of me._

Nadia exhaled. "People look up to you, you know, Shorter." She yanked out her keys, shoving the door open. "Sing, and Lao next door. What do you think they'll say if—"

"I don't care what they say. Also Sing helped us break into Wang-Lung's office."

Nadia groaned. She stormed over to the fridge, yanking out a gourd and some green onions. Shorter didn't know whether she wanted him to help her, or wanted to be left alone.

She sniffed, wiping at her eyes.

"Nadia!" he yelped. "What's wrong? Did that—" _Did I make you that sad?_ "Is it Charlie?"

"No," said Nadia, slicing the onions. "It's fine."

"That's not going to help if you're already crying. Let me do it."

"Fine." Nadia stepped back. Her shoulders shook as she grabbed a dish towel, stained and torn. It was one of Mom's old towels.

"I wish you'd tell me," Shorter finally said. Now the fumes were stinging his eyes and nostrils, too. "I wish you'd be honest with me. You're—taking care of me, and I—"

"I told Charlie I need to rethink things."

"Why? Because of me?"

"No, bigheaded little brother of mine." Nadia rolled her eyes, wiping at them. "Because I just—because I want to make sure you—are getting what you need, and I—"

 _So, because of me._

"You are not a burden," Nadia cut in. "Don't go there, Shorter. Raising you is the best part of my life, and I see things from it. Like today, sitting in that office, how unfair it all was. I told him that it just struck me again. How little people care about people like us, like Sing and Lao next door, like Ash. And everyone at that school pretends to care, but they don't. That principal of yours treated his own brother like trash, and _that's_ a respectable family?" Nadia folded her arms over her chest. "I'm _not_ mad at you, Shorter. I'm mad at—at—"

 _Mom and Dad?_

 _Charlie?_

 _No._ Shorter knew. _Yourself_. _This world. Everything in it._

 _It's not fair._

"I can't date someone who only wants to preserve the status quo," Nadia choked out. "But it was nice—having someone who liked me—" She doubled over, crying into her hands.

Shorter dropped the knife. His heart pounded.

"I'd give anything for you to be okay," Nadia managed. "But I don't know what I can do. You're making your own decisions."

"You're enough," Shorter said. "It's not on you. I'm making my own choices, like you say—"

"But they still affect other people," Nadia pointed out.

 _There's a part of you that wants someone, anyone, to fix things_.

He reached out, grabbing her in a hug, and for once, he was comforting her. "I'm sorry. I really am, Nadia. I could offer to beat Charlie up for you, but I—"

Nadia slapped his shoulder. But she laughed.

 _You're my only sister. You're the most important person to me. Let me help you for once._

 _I've got to try._

* * *

Yut-Lung had never been more bitter Blanca had thrown out his alcohol. He could have used a glass or two right now. It was close to midnight, and his eyes were moving too slow.

His brother wanted him at the party. Probably to offer him to Golzine. And given what he'd overheard from Golzine and Ash's conversation in the parking lot, they were both completely screwed unless he could read faster. He sat on his bed, the files plugged into his computer, combing through them for anything useful, anything at all.

 _Failure._

 _I won't fail._

 _Not capable._

 _I am. I will be._

 _Our father would be disgusted—_

 _Mommy, I won't let you down, not this time, I won't fail as your son._

When Yut-Lung woke, his neck was stiff as hell from sleeping sitting up, and a scream was splitting the air, and his throat burning, and it took him more than a moment to realize he was the one screaming. And a hand gripped his shoulder, shaking him.

 _"Yut-Lung!_ Yut-Lung."

He gasped, trying to breathe. Air flowed like acid into his lungs. Everything blurred. A knife. Her hair. Hands on his shoulders, holding him back.

"Yut-Lung, look at me!"

He blinked. Blanca clutched both of his shoulders, dressed in what looked like pajamas, eyes wide with concern and a gun on the foot of the bed. "I thought someone had broken in."

"Huh?" Yut-Lung gaped.

"You were screaming."

Yut-Lung looked at his bed. The computer was still on, glowing. He must have fallen asleep. And of course, those memories came when he was trying to rest, dragging him into nightmares. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up." Hell, he couldn't even wake himself up.

 _Nothing but a failure._

Blanca exhaled.

Yut-Lung shivered. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"Do you want tea?"

 _I want—I want_ _—_

He nodded. He stayed on the bed as Blanca went to make it. The clock read three in the morning. Yut-Lung covered his mouth, trying not to sob. He was already too much of a burden, and he seemed to just be getting to be more of one.

"Here." Blanca reappeared, pushing a warm mug into Yut-Lung's hand. He held one himself and sat on the end of the bed. Neither of them spoke.

"Sorry," Yut-Lung mumbled a third time, just to shatter the quiet.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Yut-Lung shook his head.

"You know," said Blanca. "I will be attending the get-together on Friday as well. You're not going alone. I've already spoken to Max Lobo, Jessica Randy, and Shunichi Ibe. I don't care if that fool of a brother hasn't invited me. It's easy enough to score an invitation from Dino Golzine."

"Right, because you used to work for him."

Blanca studied the liquid in his cup. "Yes."

Yut-Lung let the steam wash over his face from his own mug. "Do you regret it?"

Blanca looked over at him. His gaze softened. "I don't regret anything. There's not much of a point."

Yut-Lung wasn't sure he agreed.

"But you can learn from it," said Blanca. "I should have taken steps to protect Ash. I'm not making that same mistake with you."

Yut-Lung cocked his head. "That sounds like regret to me. Can you learn if you can't regret?"

"It's three in the morning," Blanca said, but he smiled.

"They killed my mother," Yut-Lung said softly. "I wish—I wish I could have saved her. I was six."

Blanca froze, mug halfway to his mouth. "Yut-Lung…"

"What am I supposed to learn from that?" Yut-Lung whispered. "Hua-Lung held me back. He wouldn't let me—she was just a whore, to them. They raped her. They took turns, all six of them, and then they stabbed her throat. There was so much blood." He wiped at his eyes. "In truth, making me sleep with all those people—I could forgive that. I could handle that. It's because they killed my mother that I did that to Hua-Lung. I hate them for it. I really hate them. But she was just a poor girl in Hong Kong. No one cares about a poor girl in Hong Kong. The cops wouldn't have even registered a case. I don't even know where her body ended up. They made me watch it all." Tears streamed down his face. "What do I have to learn from that?"

"That was not your fault," Blanca said.

"Wasn't it? I should have—I was—"

"Six years old, and terrified."

Yut-Lung flinched.

"You were allowed to be terrified," Blanca said, hand awkwardly resting on Yut-Lung's shoulder. "You're still allowed to be."

Yut-Lung squeezed the mug. "So are you."

Blanca almost snorted.

 _It couldn't have been easy, not in Russia._

Blanca nodded at the computers. "What's all this?"

"We did break into Wang-Lung's office."

"I know. It's obvious."

"Well, Sing, Shorter, and I are trying to comb through his data to see what might help implicate him in some—things his money can't even get him out of. Golzine, too, if possible." Yut-Lung chewed his lip. "It's slow-going. It's all in Chinese, so Eiji and Ash can't do it."

"You know," said Blanca. "My Chinese is a little rusty, but I could help."

"Huh?" Yut-Lung's jaw fell open. "You speak Chinese?"

"I do," Blanca confirmed in Chinese. "My education was very thorough."

" _And you never told me?"_ Yut-Lung screeched in English.

Blanca cocked his head to the side. "Do you want my help or not?"

Yut-Lung nodded. "I'm not going back to sleep, anyways."

"Guess it's good you don't have school tomorrow." Blanca rose. "I'll make more tea. With caffeine this time."

A plink, and then a snap. Blanca halted. Yut-Lung froze.

"You have a friend sneaking over?" Blanca ventured.

Yut-Lung shook his head, glancing towards the window.

"Get down," said Blanca, switching off the light.

* * *

"See?" Lao said. " _See?"_

"Lao, you can eat shit," Sing informed him. He already felt guilty. He should have been able to break into the fight, stop them before they got in trouble. And he didn't like his friends being caught up in something he couldn't help with. He turned and stormed back to his locker.

School was going to suck the next few days without them. That night, Sing stayed up late, turning off the lights and working by his phone's flashlight to examine the files Ash had given them. At the very least, he could still help them with this. He'd texted, of course, and Ash said he was okay, Eiji responded with a smiling emoji, Shorter with a knife emoji, and Yut-Lung had simply left him on read, but it was enough.

Unfortunately, a knock on his bedroom door, the bedroom that had once been a closet, came around two-thirty. Sing cussed. He wasn't lucky enough for it to be his mom, staggering home to beg for money or something.

The door flew open. Lao's shadow shot across the tiny floor, up the wall.

"Hi," said Sing, switching off his laptop.

"Studying?" Lao asked, in such a way that suggested he already knew the answer.

"Of sorts," Sing replied.

"Are you lying?"

"Genuinely no, depending on your definition. Not for school."

"You have school tomorrow."

"Maybe I'll play sick," Sing taunted. He fake-coughed into his elbow. "Ahem, ahem. Remember when we used to do that?" When they were still young enough to try to save their mother, Lao used to heat up hot water bottles and put them on Sing, hoping it made him look like he had a fever, used to try to teach Sing how to cough realistically, hoping if their mother thought he was sick enough she'd stay in.

It only worked once, and she drank herself into a stupor in her room. Eventually Sing decided to stop trying, even when Lao cried and begged him to try. They could take care of themselves. Except they couldn't, so that's when Shorter and Nadia stepped in, when they got hungry enough.

Lao scowled. "So you'll fake sick for them? Because I know whatever you're doing has to do with your new friends."

"Shorter's been our friend for ages! Are you jealous or something? Because I've asked you to sit with us like a million times and when you actually take me up on it, you're grumpy and bitter and don't say anything!"

"Because they're assholes!"

"They aren't!" Sing snapped. "And if you say that one more time, I'll never invite you again."

Lao's face fell. "Sing, I'm just trying to protect you."

"I don't need you to." Sing huffed.

"But they're bad news. Except Shorter, but he's able to—"

"Take care of himself more than I am?" Sing glared at his brother. "Why can't you have a little faith in me?"

"Because you—"

"I—"

"You—"

"Just shut up!" Sing screamed, slamming his palm into his mattress. "Shut up, why don't you? You just want me to what, only be _your_ friend the rest of my life? I like Ash, and Eiji, and Yut-Lung. Shorter too, of course. I like them because they're fun, and they don't try to baby me, and you—you treat me like I'm a glass egg about to break, and I'm not. I have seen some shit, Lao, we both have, and _I don't like being treated like a thing for you to control!"_

Lao's face whitened.

"I'm not Mom," Sing said, voice shaking.

Lao swore.

Shit. He shouldn't have said that. No, he should have, long ago. He was glad he said it. Sing's heart pounded. "Lao—"

"That just proves you are her," said Lao, clearly grabbing onto whatever flimsy line he could to lash Sing with.

It stung. It burned.

"I'm done." Sing grabbed his laptop, stuffing it into his backpack.

"You're not leaving at this time of night!"

"Why? Unlike you, I have places I can go!"

"It's not safe!"

"Neither is staying here!" Sing threw his jacket on and slung his bag over his shoulder. "See you at school tomorrow. _Maybe_. I'll text."

"Sing!" Lao lunged for him.

 _Oh, hell no._ Sing dodged. He clung to the strap of his bag, bursting out the door and racing down the street. Lao screamed his name as he whirled around a corner.

 _Fuck you, Lao_.

 _I wish—I wish—_

He slowed. He knew where he was going, of course. He'd always known. He made it to that fancy mansion, gathering pebbles from the garden to toss at the window in Yut-Lung's room. He was in luck; the light was on.

And then it was off.

 _Is he coming outside?_ Sing waited.

The sound of a gun cocking behind him echoed. Sing's jaw fell open. "Don't move."

"Huh?" Sing squeaked.

" _You?"_ A flashlight shone on him. Blanca shook his head. "You're—"

"A gun?" Sing screeched.

"I thought you might be Wang-Lung, or an intruder."

 _"Really, a gun?_ Is that necessary?"

"It's almost four in the morning."

"Right, which is why I was throwing pebbles, to not disturb—"

The window flew open. "Sing?" Yut-Lung leaned out of it, his long hair dangling down the side like he was freaking Rapunzel. "What the hell are you doing showing up here at—"

Sing opened his mouth, but when he tried to speak, his voice cracked. "I—had a fight with Lao."

"Come inside," Blanca said with a sigh.

Minutes later, Sing found himself upstairs in Yut-Lung's bedroom, a warm mug of chai in his hand. "Up working on things as well?" He nodded at the laptop.

"Yeah." Yut-Lung glanced at Blanca. "Blanca's helping. He knows Chinese."

"Damn," said Sing. He pulled his knees up to his chest. "Guess we can't insult the prick then," he said in Chinese.

Blanca rolled his eyes.

"What happened?" asked Yut-Lung, playing with his hair as if he didn't care, but Sing could hear it in his voice. He did.

"I'll be working on this downstairs," Blanca said. "So you may insult me in whichever language you prefer. Sleep well." He grabbed his laptop, backing out of the room.

Sing shrugged. "It's dumb. Honestly, our sibling relationship is probably peaches compared to yours."

"I don't think my relationship with my brothers is exactly a standard bar for healthy relationships." Yut-Lung sipped his tea. "What happened?"

"He just—thinks I'm our mom." Sing gulped. "She's an addict."

"You've never so much as smoked, that I've seen."

"In terms of being flaky. Abandoning him." Sing's lips trembled. "He said as much tonight. When I told him off—when he controls me, it's like he thinks I'm a bad person inherently and he needs to work hard to—and I'm—"

"The opposite of a bad person," interrupted Yut-Lung.

He wiped at his eyes. Stupid. He shouldn't be crying. Yut-Lung would probably tease him given how he teased Yut-Lung for it.

But he didn't. "But, if it helps, Sing, I don't think Lao thinks you're a bad person. I doubt he even thinks your mother is a bad person."

Sing arched his eyebrows. "He most definitely does."

"No. I think he thinks she, and you, are good people. Too good for this world, and therefore easily swayed. You may be his little brother, but I've seen how he looks up to you. He admires you. He probably clings to you as if you—you gave him a reason to live, and he's scared of losing that." Yut-Lung leaned back against his pillows. "He wants you to be weak, too, because then you need him."

"How would you know?"

"He thinks _he's_ a bad person who doesn't deserve anyone," said Yut-Lung. "And expects everyone to leave."

 _Oh_. Sing finished his tea. "Are you talking about yourself?"

"I most certainly am not."

"You most certainly are."

Yut-Lung scowled. "You're awfully bold for someone who showed up unannounced at four am."

Sing shrugged. A lump grew in his throat. "I just want to be—seen as a person. And I want to be useful. I want to help. I—"

"If it helps," said Yut-Lung. "I think Ash and Shorter and Eiji like you regardless of what you can do for them. And I do, too." He swallowed. "Thank you for taking a chance on me. You taught me how to learn from things. Mistakes."

Sing blinked. His face felt warm, but he had finished the tea. "I mean, I'm not even giving up on Lao, even though he's pissing me off."

 _Do you think I'm a good person? That good of a person? That capable? That strong?_

 _Why? How?_

"You always do the right thing," Yut-Lung said honestly.

"Not at all. I got drunk with you."

"I am a bad influence, I suppose."

"No, I appreciated it."

Yut-Lung laughed. It sounded like a bell chiming.

"You should laugh more often," Sing said.

Yut-Lung looked confused. "Why?"

"I like how it sounds," Sing said.

"Can I ask you something?" Yut-Lung leaned forward.

"Sure."

"You admired Ash for so long. Now that you know him better, are you just as impressed, or—"

"Yeah," Sing said. "But now it's like, I know. I also see where he's weak, of course, but that doesn't mean that I respect him less. He's human." Sing caught his breath. "I wish Lao saw me like that."

" _Did_ you have a crush on him? Or Shorter?"

"No!" Sing grabbed a pillow and whacked Yut-Lung with it.

"Are you sure?"

"You are impossible!" Sing's face burned.

"No, I'm _right_."

"Take it back!"

"Don't think I will." Yut-Lung snorted. "Can I ask you something else?"

"If it's like that, no."

"Did finding out about Ash's—past—change any of that for you? Did it make you not like him? Did it—"

"What?" Sing's jaw fell open. He leaned back against the pillows. Were these made of, air? How were they so soft? "Of course not. That kinda thing—not his fault, and it's awful. People who do that deserve to dissolve in acid."

Yut-Lung studied his fingernails. "I see."

"Why do you ask?" Sing ventured. A sick, slimy sensation slid into his stomach.

"Well, I already told you about what my brothers wanted me to do with Dino." Yut-Lung turned his face away from Sing, a waterfall of black hair veiling him. "That wasn't the first time."

"I didn't think it was," Sing said slowly. "But, Yut-Lung: no? I don't think any of that was your fault."

"Not even if I said my mother was a poor peddler's daughter and a whore, even if not by her choice?" Yut-Lung's shoulders shook. "And that I'm illegitimate?" He turned to face Sing then.

"Of course not," Sing said. "Why—I mean, you know my family situation, I don't see why you're so—unless you think you're better than everyone because of your stupid last name."

"If anything I think I'm worse because of it."

"I don't think so," said Sing. "I don't think so at all."

"I'm a coward," said Yut-Lung. "I'm afraid of going to this party. I'm afraid we won't succeed. I'm afraid—"

"Hey." Sing grasped his shoulder, looking into Yut-Lung's eyes. "They're not going to hurt you again." He grabbed his laptop. "Let's get to work to ensure they don't, okay?" _I wish I could do more. I want to do more._

Yut-Lung managed a smile. "Okay."

Sing woke to Blanca shaking him. "Don't you have school?"

Shit. He'd fallen asleep working on the translations. Yut-Lung too, by the looks of it. Both of them were sprawled across Yut-Lung's ridiculously oversized bed. "What time is it?" he asked, groggy.

"Ten."

" _What?"_ Sing shrieked.

Yut-Lung sat bolt upright. His brow furrowed when he realized they were both asleep in the same bed.

"Never mention this again, okay?" Sing hollered, hurtling into the bathroom to get ready.

"Sing," called Yut-Lung.

"I canph—talk—" Sing furiously brushed his teeth.

"Avoid my brother, okay?" Yut-Lung said. "For your own good. Just—try to avoid him, as much as you can." His voice caught.

Sing spat in the sink. The faucet was gold and he seriously was afraid to ask if it was real. "Okay…"

"Are you using my toothbrush?"

 _Oh shit._ Sing gagged.


	11. Fatted Calf

"Well, in good news, everyone thinks you're a badass now," Shorter proclaimed, slinging his arm around Eiji as they strode back into school on Friday. Ash rolled his eyes. Eiji cringed.

Shorter could tell both Ash and Eiji were anxious about this event thing in the evening. He and Sing and Yut-Lung and that weird bodyguard or whatever he was of Yut-Lung's had handed over a few emails and documents that looked incriminating for Dino and Wang-Lung, but there was no way any article would be done in time to halt this event, no matter how good of a writer Max Lobo was.

"Ash, we missed you," complained Alex, meeting them by the lockers.

"And I'm chopped liver?" Shorter joked.

"Arthur's friends are being impossible," Bones said, scratching his head.

"No kidding," said Sing, appearing with Yut-Lung. "I've been hanging around Cain Blood and his group during the day because I heard they were looking to beat me up."

Yut-Lung's eyes narrowed. "You didn't tell me that."

"Well, who cares? They won't try if Ash or Shorter are around." Sing shoved his fists into the pockets of his jacket. "It was Cain or Lao, and one of them treats me like a burdensome kindergartner and one of them like a friend so."

"Speak of the devil," Alex said in a low voice. "Look who's also back."

Arthur meandered down the hall. He scowled at them, but said nothing. Shorter noticed him smirking when he passed Eiji.

Shorter and Eiji were sitting in biology together when he got a text from Alex. _dude go to the bathroom on the second floor. now._

 _What?_ Shorter texted. He raised his hand and got a pass, scampering into the hallway and ignoring Eiji's worried frown. He made it to the restroom. "Alex?"

Alex was standing by the sink, arms crossed. He gestured to a photo printed on a normal white sheet of paper that was taped to the mirror.

"What's this?" Shorter asked, but the moment he looked he wanted to vomit. His vision blurred.

"Kong told me about it." Alex ripped the sign off the mirror. "It's everywhere. In every bathroom. In the hallways. I sent Kong and Bones to take them down, but—"

"Arthur," Shorter said. Rage steamed inside of him. He'd like to send Arthur's face through the mirror, or—he sent his fist into the wall. Tiles cracked. His knuckles bled. _What kind of asshole do you have to be to do this kind of thing to someone?_

"What do we do?" asked Alex. "I also got Cain to agree to help shut people up, but if Ash sees, he's going to—"

"Leave Ash to me," Shorter said, clapping Alex's shoulder. He yanked the paper away from Alex. "Keep taking things down. If you hear people talking about it, well, whatever you do to shut them up, don't get caught."

Alex nodded. "Deal."

If Ash saw, he would definitely attack Arthur and get expelled. And if— Shorter broke into a run. _Eiji, this is what Arthur threatened you with, isn't it?_

"Hey!" bellowed a teacher's voice behind him. Dawson, the weird chemistry teacher.

"I have a pass!" Shorter hollered.

"Well, you're not supposed to be running!"

 _Fuck off, you twat_. Shorter stomped towards the stairs. _Please be in your office._

 _This is your last chance. Do you deserve my sister or not?_

He burst into Charlie's office to find the man staring morosely at a computer screen, an abandoned donut on a plate next to him. He leaped to his feet when he saw Shorter.

Shorter shut the door behind him. He thrust the sign at him. "These photos are in every bathroom and along the lockers."

Charlie's face drained of color. He swore.

"It's fucking Arthur," Shorter said. "We all know it. And we all know it's not just him, and you know it too, don't you? So—" _What are you gonna do? Nothing? Report this to Wang-Lung when we all know how that'll go?_ _Bring it to the cops when Ash isn't going to trust any of you? Do you actually want to help or not?_

Charlie stared at him. Shorter gritted his teeth. His eyes stung.

Charlie grabbed his keys. "Come with me, Shorter."

He nodded. Charlie marched him through the hallway. "Where's Eiji at? And Ash, and Yut-Lung?"

"He's in history. Ash and Yut-Lung are in civics."

"Great," Charlie said. He took them to the biology classroom first. "Mr. Mannerheim, I'll be taking Shorter Wong and Eiji Okumura. Get your things, Eiji. You won't be coming back."

Eiji blinked. His face whitened as he scrambled out the door. Charlie took them to civics, passing Cain on the way ripping a paper down from the lockers. Charlie nodded at him.

"Yut-Lung Lee and Ash L—Callenreese. Get your bags. They won't be returning, Kippard."

"Fine," said Kippard.

"Ooooooh," chorused the other students as Yut-Lung and Ash grabbed their bags.

"What's going on?" Ash hissed, joining them. "Did Arthur—"

"Follow me. I'll answer your questions in the car," Charlie said.

 _Damn, Charlie_.

Eiji shrugged at Ash. Yut-Lung glanced over his shoulder. Shorter squeezed Yut-Lung's arm to reassure him.

Charlie led down down the back stairwell and out into the parking lot. "Get in."

They all climbed into the car, Eiji, Ash, and Yut-Lung wedging themselves into the backseat.

"We're going to your place, Yut-Lung," said Charlie. "And I'm calling all your guardians. Again. This has gone way too far." He clutched the steering wheel. "God fucking _dammit_!"

"What happened?" asked Ash. His voice shook. "It's me again, isn't it?"

"It's Arthur," corrected Shorter.

Ash reached for his phone.

"No," said Eiji, yanking it away.

" _What happened?_ " Ash shouted.

"Arthur put up photos," said Charlie. Yut-Lung's face twisted as if he was about to throw up.

Ash unbuckled his seatbelt.

"No you don't!" Yut-Lung grabbed him. Eiji snatched Ash's other arm.

"Let me go!" Ash screamed. His face twisted in the kind of humiliation Shorter had never seen before. It felt like a thousand needles piercing his gut, to see his friend like this.

"Ash, please, if you want to hurt somebody for this, hurt me!" shouted Eiji. "This is what—this is—Arthur said he would but I—it's my fault, it's _all my fault!"_

"The hell it is!" Ash gaped at Eiji. "It's not your—"

"I just wanted to—" Eiji was crying now. Shorter bit down on his bloodied knuckles.

"Ash," Charlie said. "Look. I've had it. I'm technically breaking the law by taking all of you out of school without permission from your guardians, but I'm doing it because I care, okay? I'm not going to let this ruin your life—"

" _My life is already ruined!"_

"Ash, please," begged Eiji. "Please, Ash, please—"

"Let us work out a plan," said Charlie. "Between an ex-assassin, a cop, a business owner, and two—no, three, Jessica's gonna show—journalists, we can figure out a plan."

"An ex-assassin?" Shorter demanded. "What the—"

"Blanca," said Yut-Lung.

" _The fuck?"_

"Aren't you ruining your own career?" Ash demanded, voice bitter.

Charlie sped up to make it through a yellow light. "I'll run red lights in emergencies."

Ash was still shaking when they arrived at Yut-Lung's place. Charlie pounded on the door.

Blanca answered. He took in the sight of all five of them standing on the stoop, Ash looking as if he was about to explode in a thousand angry red shards of glass, Eiji clinging to him, Shorter leaning against the railing feeling like vomiting, and Yut-Lung shivering.

Blanca's jaw plummeted. "Mother of God, what now?"

* * *

"Wait upstairs."

"The fuck I will!" Ash shouted. Eiji wanted to cry.

"Please?" requested Max. All of them—Ibe-san, Nadia, Jessica too—were gathered in Yut-Lung's living room. Blanca paced. "Ash, I promise if there's something we need you for, we'll call you down here."

"I—"

Yut-Lung reached out, grabbing Ash and tugging him up the stairs. They all trudged to Yut-Lung's room. Ash marched towards the cabinet.

"It's empty," Yut-Lung said. "Blanca dumped all of it."

"I should have known he'd screw me over one last time." Ash dropped onto Yut-Lung's bed face-first. Eiji lowered himself to sit next to Ash. Guilt chipped away at him from the inside.

 _I failed him. I love him, and I failed him._

"I just texted Sing," Yut-Lung reported.

"Good." Shorter cussed. "What is wrong with these people?"

"It's me," said Ash, voice muffled. "It's always me. I'm—cursed. Dino will do anything to get me back, to use me again. He invested too much into me. Too many tutors, like Blanca, too many strings pulled, too much time fucking me, to give up now. It's like he thinks I'm a horse he can break." He pounded his fist into the mattress. A scream ripped from his throat.

"Ash," whispered Eiji. Even Shorter looked struck dumb. Yut-Lung set his phone down. Try. He had to try. Just try. "It's—I'm sorry. I should have told you; I just didn't think—I was hoping he was bluffing, I—"

"And this," said Ash, gesturing. "Can't you see it's my fault? I make other people feel bad about themselves, worry, it's all I seem—"

Oh, fuck it. _"Why is that your responsibility?"_ Eiji bellowed.

Everyone's mouth fell open. Ash rolled over, looking up at him.

His lungs felt raw. "Why does it matter?" Eiji demanded. "What we go through, what we feel—it's not under your control!"

"Of course it isn't!" Ash said. His eyes watered. "I don't think it is!"

 _You do. You do._

If he prayed harder, he thought his daddy would be healed. He believed it. If he did well enough, won enough gold medals, is father would get the strength to leave the hospital, to watch him.

 _It was all on me._

 _It was never me._

 _Did you want to watch me, Dad? Does it matter?_

"Well, you matter to us!" Eiji clenched his fists. His throat ached. "I don't care what—or how much trouble I get in, or how much it hurts—you matter to us! We care about you! It doesn't matter—we don't think of you like a liability, or a burden! You're Ash, and we're glad we get to know you and to care about you!" Tears streamed down his face, and he broke.

"He's right," said Shorter. "You know, you could do something totally shitty to me and I would still care. And Alex and Kong and Bones and all those guys—Sing, Skip, everyone—we all care. You think all those people downstairs are there only out of obligation? They actually fucking care about you."

Ash shook his head. His face crumpled.

"Can you really not know?" Yut-Lung whispered.

Everyone spun to look at him.

"People do care about you, Ash," Yut-Lung said. He hunched his shoulders. "That's why I—when I spread that rumor at the beginning of the year, it was because I could see how everyone cared about you, and I was—jealous. I relate, you know, to you. We've had similar lives, and—no one cared about me and I was so—so—jealous that I—" He wiped at his eyes. "People _love_ you, Ash."

"That's true," said Shorter, moving to sit on the other side of the bed. "Like, as bros though. You and me."

" _I_ love you, Ash," Eiji heard himself say. "You aren't in control of everything. No matter how high your IQ is, or how talented, or how attractive you are, that doesn't make anything that's happened to you or that happens to us your responsibility. You're—like all of us. You're still sixteen, and I—I wish for once someone would let you—be sixteen. I wish you were able to let yourself. I know I'm just a coward, but you're—"

"You're not a coward," Ash interrupted.

"Maybe not anymore," Eiji said. "Because—"

"You keep _trying_ ," Ash said. "That's hardly cowardly, Eiji—I wish—I wish I was more like you—I wish—"

 _Try_. Eiji reached out his hand. Ash clasped it.

 _You_.

"Please let us help you," Eiji begged. "I know we're not as competent, at least I'm not, but we want to try. Because we care." He reached out, grasping Ash's other hand, too. Ash's eyes widened. "The people—like your dad or Blanca or Dino—who failed you or worse in the past—we're not them. The people downstairs aren't them. Well, Blanca is there. Literally. I suppose. But he doesn't seem like you described him as. Trust us to help you, _please_." He gulped. "I know I just failed you—trying to protect you—so maybe instead of trying to protect each other, we be honest with each other."

 _Because there's nothing you could tell me that would make me dislike you. There's no hidden part of you that would make me run away screaming._

 _There are parts of me that truly are cowardly. Like my stupidity that led to this. I'm ashamed._

 _But—_

Ash leaned forward. His thumbs wiped the tears from Eiji's cheeks. His head fell onto Eiji's shoulder. "I'm scared. I'm so scared, Eiji. I feel like—if I do nothing—it'll all keep happening—if I don't fight—"

"You can be scared," Eiji managed. "It doesn't make you less strong. There are people fighting for you."

Ash's arms rose to encircle him, too.

"You can be mad at me, too. I—"

"I'm not," Ash said, and his voice broke.

"I'm starting to feel like a third wheel," remarked Shorter, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Shut up and let them have a moment," hissed Yut-Lung.

* * *

"What the fuck?" Sing gaped at Cain.

"Wild, right?" Cain shook his head. "These fucking—"

Sing yanked out his phone. Sure enough, he had an overly long text from Yut-Lung explaining what was going on. "Jesus Christ. I can't believe Arthur would stoop that low."

"I can." Cain rolled his eyes.

"Sing!"

Oh, hell no, not _now_. Sing winced. He had half a mind to stomp his feet like a toddler.

"Want me to punch him?" offered Cain.

Sing shook his head. "He's still my brother."

"Fair." Cain leaned back, resting his head against the lockers. "If you change your mind, though..."

"Yes, Lao, I heard, and I want to puke," Sing greeted him.

Lao cussed. "Arthur had better get expelled for this."

Well, this wasn't too bad. Sing nodded.

"He'll never show his face in this school again."

"I bet he's bragging about it." Sing followed Lao down the hallway.

"I was talking about Ash."

Sing recoiled. "Why?"

"I mean, would you? Not that it's right or wrong; it just is." Lao's face reddened. "It's humiliating as fuck and it's not his fault, but would you show your face if—"

"It's not right or wrong?" Sing had never wanted to punch his brother more.

 _He thinks you're a good person._

 _He thinks he's a bad person._

 _Shut up, Yut-Lung._

 _He thinks Ash is a bad person._

 _No, he's afraid that he's not Ash._

"You're _happy_ about this, aren't you?" Sing glowered at him. He should stop. Now wasn't the time for emotions to be surging inside of him, red hot, and white and blue flames burning, consuming him from the inside out.

"Of course not! You think I'd ever—"

"No, I think you are _relieved_ ," Sing said. "Instead of caring that my _friend_ just had someone post photos of _horrific abuse_ of him around the school and _told everyone about it!_ " He glared. "Instead of trying to comfort me, you're rationalizing the ramifications and how they'll work out in your favor. You're sick, you know that, Lao?"

Lao gaped at him. "But—"

"Fuck that whole 'the world just is' bullshit," said Sing. "That's what a coward would say. Maybe you're right. But if it is, then I hate it, and I'm going to make sure it doesn't stay that way. People who do this type of shit should be fucking punished."

"I _agree_ , Sing—"

Sing turned and stalked down the hallway.

"Where are you going?" Lao bellowed. "Don't you dare fight Arthur, Sing Soo-Ling, you don't stand a chance!"

Sing whirled around. He sent dragon fang out, slicing the vest on Lao's shoulder. Lao gasped.

Everyone in the hallway was staring. Cain crossed his arms, watching. He'd followed.

"Don't tell me what I can or can't do," said Sing. "Not again, Lao. Not this time." _I'm not Mom. I'm not you. I'm not Ash or Yut-Lung or Shorter. I'm me, and I'm more capable than you think._ "And don't follow me, either. I don't trust you. Not at all, not right now." He turned on his heel.

"He asked you not to follow him," Cain's voice cut in. Sing refused to turn around as he raced for one of the stairwells.

" _Sing!"_

* * *

It might be one of his only chances. Their only chances, left, that is. Sing texted Yut-Lung. _I've got a plan._

 _Please elaborate._

 _I've had a plan for awhile now,_ Sing responded.

 _?_

 _Is Ash okay?_

 _He and Eiji are asleep on my bed in each other's arms and Shorter is planning how to torture them when they wake up. Jessica seems like she has something in mind for tonight. We're not going to that party thing anymore._

 _I told Lao off,_ Sing texted. _He seemed happy about what happened. He said he wasn't but I know he was._

 _I'm sorry,_ Yut-Lung responded. _I_ _hope he realizes he's just pushing you away._

 _Don't make it sound like you relate to him_ , Sing thought bitterly.

 _What's your plan?_ Yut-Lung asked again. _I'm bored here Sing please entertain me. Nadia and Blanca caught Shorter & I sneaking downstairs to listen an hour ago because Shorter's too loud, and they grabbed both of us by our collars and shoved us back up the stairs. Nadia's even scarier. _

_I'll tell you if it works._

 _And if it doesn't?_

 _I will also let you know._

Sing raised his hand and was given a pass. He pulled his coat around him as he walked through the stairwell where the fire had been last time. He reached for the red handle and yanked. The alarm screeched, splitting his ears. Covering them the block out some of the sound, he raced down the stairs and into the nearest bathroom, hiding. It took him only a few minutes to pick the custodian's lock after the students emptied out and to get the keys to the main office. Man, this key ring was heavy.

Especially with the party that night, he couldn't wait for after school. Sing tried three keys before finding the right one. It slid into the lock, and he was in. The alarm still screamed. As soon as it went off, he'd have to leave.

He placed the small device under the faux-wood desk Wang-Lung was using temporarily. _Don't fail me now._

The alarm switched off. Sing cussed. He texted Yut-Lung. _Worked_. Now, time to split from school. They'd surely find out he pulled the fake alarm and—

A hand landed on his shoulder.

* * *

"What's going on?" Yut-Lung asked when Jessica appeared in their doorway.

"Fire alarm at your school," Jessica reported. "Charlie's been called and refused to go."

"Damn." Shorter ran his hand through his mohawk.

Jessica left. Yut-Lung glanced down at his phone. "Sing's not answering me." His heart pounded.

"Huh?" Shorter blinked at him.

"I mean, he said he had a plan an hour or so ago, and I'm guessing it had to do with this fire alarm, and now his phone's just going straight to voicemail when I call him." Yut-Lung wrang his hands.

"Maybe he has places to go and people to see," Shorter opined. "Like his brother."

"He and Lao weren't getting along." Yut-Lung paced.

"Is there a particular reason you're worried?" asked Ash, sitting up. Eiji blinked sleepily beside him.

"It's Sing," said Yut-Lung. "It's not like him not to answer."

"Well, Blanca, Max, and Ibe just left with Charlie," reported Shorter, peering out the window.

"If my brother—" Yut-Lung stopped. He dropped onto the sofa, clutching his hands. "Sing—"

"What?"

"He murdered my mother." Yut-Lung lifted his face and met Shorter's gaze, then Ash's, then Eiji's. "They all did. All my brothers. Blanca knows. If he caught Sing and was worried enough—"

"You're kidding," said Shorter, jaw dropping. "You think he'd kill a student?"

"My mother was twenty-one when he killed her. I was six. Do the math."

Eiji covered his mouth, as if about to be sick. Ash met Yut-Lung's gaze.

 _I know. It's awful, isn't it?_

"You're going, aren't you?" Ash asked.

Eiji groaned.

"No," said Shorter. "No, Yut-Lung, you are not."

"I'm not just sitting here!" Yut-Lung screamed. "They're not even downstairs anymore!"

"For the record, Jessica and Nadia are capable of some shit," Shorter opined.

"I'm sure they are," Yut-Lung said, irritated. "But so is Wang-Lung."


	12. Wings Like Eagles

_I went from a good decision Nadia was proud of me for to making a terrible one she's going to kill me for in the span of a few hours_. Shorter cringed as he darted across the lawn after Yut-Lung, Ash, and Eiji. In their defense, he had texted Alex, who said he hadn't seen Sing since before the fire drill, but that he heard from Arthur that Sing had definitely pulled the alarm, and that was enough for Yut-Lung to run for the back door.

 _"We should talk to them," Shorter said._

 _"I can't," Yut-Lung had insisted, panic breaking his voice down. "They'll tell us not to go, and I can't wait!"_

You don't trust them to do anything. _And even though Shorter knew Nadia would, he knew Jessica would, he couldn't blame Yut-Lung for his mistrust._

Had adults ever looked out for Yut-Lung at all, before Blanca?

"All right," said Ash as they arrived at the school. "We check Wang-Lung's office, and then we go back." He exhaled.

Yut-Lung was shaking. Shorter and Eiji exchanged a glance.

 _They killed my mother._

Shorter remembered seeing his parents in their caskets, cold to the touch, skin made up and looking like plastic. He remembered turning to Nadia. " _That's not them, Nadia! It's not them; they're alive!_ " And then he realized she was crying, and the more he insisted, the more she cried, so he stopped. He believed, though, for months on end. He believed they were alive. But they never came home, and Nadia cried, and eventually it eventually whittled away into dust, that hope. But it'd kept him going for months.

He couldn't imagine seeing his mother murdered in front of him. The sun drooped low in the sky, blood red light dribbling onto the pavement, the air cold. Shorter shuddered.

Kippard's window was boarded up, but the window to Dawson's chemistry lab wasn't. In fact, it was left open like an idiot ran that classroom, which Shorter figured was definitely the case. Ash hauled them all in. They raced down the hallway, not stopping for any vandalism this time.

They slowed as they approached the office, listening. No sound. Yut-Lung yanked out his bobby pin again.

"Let me," said Shorter, holding out his hand. Yut-Lung's were trembling too badly to accomplish anything. He unlocked the door. They entered. Shadows slid along the walls, dark amber in the fading daylight. He moved towards Wang-Lung's office.

"Oh my," said a voice behind them.

Shorter stiffened. _You!_

"Trespassers? Gonna be fun seeing y'all in handcuffs," drawled Arthur, leaning against the doorframe.

"You want to join?" Ash snapped. His eyes blazed green fire.

"Don't think I will." Arthur slammed the door to the main office. The key turned in the lock.

"Hey!" shrieked Eiji.

"I still have the bobby pin, idiot!" bellowed Shorter.

A scream. Arthur's, high-pitched, breaking. And then a crash.

The door flung back open.

"Don't think you'll be making any calls," said Alex, holding up Arthur's crushed phone. Kong stood behind him, Bones sitting on Arthur to pin him to the tiled floor.

"Alex!" Ash shook his head. "I—"

"Check the office," Alex said. "I tried to get in touch with Cain, and can't."

Shorter jammed the bobby pin into the lock, twisting. It opened.

Everything looked to be in place, albeit with the walls bare and the desk a cheap replacement. Except for the corner of the carpet upturned. And a vase tipped over on Wang-Lung's desk. And a slice in the plastic that looked like it could be from dragon fang.

"Motherfucker," Shorter breathed. _Some kind of struggle—definitely—_

Yut-Lung's chest rose and fell in an erratic pattern. He clutched his throat.

Ash reached into the trash bin, pulling out the crushed remains of Sing's phone.

"Breathe!" Eiji grabbed Yut-Lung.

Ash grabbed a pair of scissors from the desk. Panic shot through Shorter. _Is there blood—_

But no. Ash marched out of the office and towards Arthur. " _Where is he?"_

Bones yanked Arthur to a sitting position. Ash ripped the scissors apart, forming two blades. "Where's Sing?"

Arthur's face turned white.

"I know how to make it hurt," Ash said, crouching down. "I was taught by an assassin. My baseball coach isn't the only person I killed; I don't know how much blood is on my hands." His chest heaved. His voice twisted, echoing with ghosts Shorter had never heard before. He sounded too calm, the twists too subtle, and for that reason a chill skipped down Shorter's spine. "I won't feel badly if _yours_ joins. Tell me where he is!"

"Ash," called Eiji. "Ash, please."

"Ash," started Shorter.

"I don't know!" Arthur panicked, trying to wriggle away.

Alex slammed Arthur's shoulder into the wall, holding him in place.

"Where is he?" Ash shouted. Bones flinched.

"Probably Wang-Lung's house, or Dino's, or—"

"Dino's?" Ash narrowed his eyes. "What does he have to do with this? What is this even about, anyways?"

"Don't you know?" Arthur grinned up at him. "It's always _you_ , right? Guess you're so good Dino wouldn't even consider—"

"Shut up!" Shorter yelled.

"Why? He knows it, he knows he's a hot shit—"

"Do you want me to break your jaw?" demanded Alex. "Because I'm about to!"

"Why you?" Arthur finally screamed, glaring at Ash. "Why—why—why you? Why are you so favored? Why does everyone like you? There's nothing special about you, you overrated piece of shit! I—I—I'm—someone will see—someone has to see—"

"You think I wanted any of this?" Ash shouted back. "You think I—I—"

Eiji gripped Ash's shoulder.

Arthur glared up at them, nostrils flaring. "Are you all just fine with being forgotten, in the great Ash Lynx's shadow? Don't you have any pride at all? Aren't you—"

"But Ash won't forget us," Yut-Lung cut in. "We're friends. Criticize what you want about him; he loves his friends."

Arthur let out a yell. He slammed his head back into the wall.

"Stop it," Yut-Lung shouted. "Stop it, or I'll—"

"Shut up, you slut."

"Insult him again and your hand won't be the only thing you have to avenge!" Ash snapped.

Arthur glanced around, taking in all of their faces, all concerned, all angry, and he let out a guffaw. The sound rose and rose in pitch until it crumpled into hysteria.

"Arthur, _where is Sing?"_ Shorter demanded. _Or I will kick your throat in._

"You're all so stupid," Arthur said, choking. "So ignorant. I bet you don't even know that Dino offered Wang-Lung a promotion if he—"

"Helped get me back?" Ash's voice cracked. "You're lucky, Arthur. You're lucky he didn't favor you, or—"

"Bullshit!" Arthur spat in Ash's face.

Alex made a move, but Shorter held up his hand, holding him off. Ash didn't even wipe the spittle away.

"You know something, Ash? You know he asked me to do something for him, promised I would—if I did one more thing—if I—"

"Well, that's how he is. He'll use until you break."

Arthur cackled. "No. I killed someone for him, or someone with me—he told me if i hurt someone for him—I know you're a killer, but—"

"Killed who?" Shorter yelled. "What?" If he meant Sing, Shorter would— _Sing!_

"Your brother, Ash."

Cold settled in Shorter's stomach.

A nasty grin sliced across Arthur's face. "It was almost pathetic—we were only going to rough him up on Dino's orders, but he got anxious and scared, so—he got shot."

"Son of a _bitch!"_ Kong punched Arthur. Yut-Lung gasped.

Ash's face looked like a skeleton's. He gaped.

 _Oh, fuck_.

Ash got to his feet. His eyes hardened.

"Nope!" Shorter grabbed Ash's arm. Eiji grabbed the other. Arthur was laughing, wheezing, slamming his just-healed hand into the tiled floor again and again.

"Let me go!" Ash struggled. His face twisted. " _He killed my brother!"_

"No!" Shorter shouted at him. "Listen, Ash. We need to—save Sing, okay? If you want to go to Dino, you'll get yourself killed alone—we need to save Sing, okay?" He shook Ash. "What's more important to you? Dino's life ending, or Sing's life continuing?"

"He killed Griffin," Ash whispered. He looked up at Shorter, and for the first time, the veils over his eyes were rent in two, and raw agony poured out.

"He knew you'd be out whoring—"

"If you say one more word like that I swear I will tape your mouth shut!" bellowed Eiji.

"I wasn't there—he couldn't even protect himself! What if it was Nadia?" Ash looked up at Shorter, mouth open, teeth knocking together. "What if it was your sister, Eiji?"

"I don't know," Eiji said, crying. "I don't know what I'd do."

"I know what Nadia would say," Shorter said. "I know what she'd want me to do."

" _More mouths to feed?" she'd ask. "Come on in."_

" _This is Ash. We met in juvie. He's the one who looked like the Christmas card you sent me."_

 _Nadia laughed. "Nice to meet you, Ash."_

"I don't know what I'd do," Shorter admitted, grasping Ash's shoulder. "But I know what—I hope you'll do."

* * *

Arthur was left in the school, locked in Wang Lung's office. The seven of them made their way to Wang-Lung's mansion. Yut-Lung kept glancing at Ash, who was stumbling around, doubled over as if he was about to be sick.

 _You found his body, didn't you?_

 _The one person you knew loved you. The one person who was really family_.

They never looked the same without blood in them.

 _I can't let that happen to Sing._ Not the first person who'd reached out to him. Yut-Lung checked Eiji's gaze. _I don't want that to happen to Ash._

But it was up to Ash now. Live, or die.

 _I would die, if it meant saving Sing_.

 _But I really want to live_. _I think._ He had friends now. Blanca took care of him. Blanca actually did care, and he believed it. And Sing not just cared about him, but let Yut-Lung care about him in return. He trusted him.

 _I want to be worthy of it._

 _You know almost everything that would suggest I'm not, and yet you still—_

"What's the plan?" panted Shorter as they drew up, the Lee family mansion in sight.

"Break in through the back. The locks have codes; we can't pick them." Yut-Lung looked at Ash. "Can you—"

"Yeah."

"We'll only have a few minutes," added Yut-Lung. He swallowed. _Unless…_

"Where would he be?" asked Alex, craning his neck. "The place is huge."

"The upper floors are the best bet; there are some guest bedrooms on the third floor. Actually, I'll buy you a few _more_ minutes." Yut-Lung folded his arms. "Break in from the back. The second window to the left is the kitchen; it's your best bet." He broke into a run.

"Where are you going?" Shorter hollered.

Yut-Lung didn't answer. He rang the doorbell.

The door opened. The servant's eyes widened.

"Is my brother home?" Yut-Lung tried to keep his innocent face on. It was failing. All his training, all his masks. Crumbling to dust in his hands. _Not now._ He had to resurrect them. This once. For Sing.

"He is getting ready for the—"

"Tell him it's about Hua-Lung, and it's urgent." Yut-Lung held his head high.

A few murmurs and minutes later, and the servant beckoned Yut-Lung to follow up the stairs. He hoped Ash and the rest had broken inside by now. He wasn't sure how much of this he could take. He already felt like a legion of fire ants was swarming over all his organs, writhing, biting and stinging. He wanted to run, douse himself in antiseptic.

 _I can't. For Sing_.

He entered his brother's study. The room he knew so well, its lines of encyclopedias covering the bookshelves, encyclopedias that had belongs to his father and his grandfather before him, emerald green leather embossed with gold. And not a speck of dust.

Wang-Lung was adjusting his tie in front of a full-length mirror affixed to one wall. A portrait of their father gazed solemnly at Yut-Lung from between the windows. "You're not dressed for the—"

"I'm not going." This once, he could defy his brother. Because he didn't own him. Yut-Lung straightened, standing as tall as he could. He was still a full head shorter than Wang-Lung, the only one of his brothers with a slight build, with all of his mother's genes.

Wang-Lung turned. "After playing hooky—"

"You know why I did it," Yut-Lung interrupted. "You know. You've always known. Arthur told me everything. You're working _with_ Dino Golzine, aren't you? You don't care what kids you trample on and you never have—you've just seen all the kids in your school as stepping stones to—"

"Watch your tongue," Wang-Lung warned, eyes dark. He finished tying the knot in his tie.

"Does it bother you that my mother was the age of a sophomore when she had me? Or did you not think of her like that? No, you did think of her like them. You don't see any of them as people—you see them as _animals—_ "

Wang-Lung's hand shot out before Yut-Lung could jerk back. He grabbed him by the throat. "You're awfully bold for someone who—"

A clatter down the hall. Wang-Lung frowned.

 _I need to enrage him. Create a commotion_. Yut-Lung gritted his teeth as the grip loosened. "Hua-Lung is gone," Yut-Lung managed. "Because I stole the money from his business. It's not failing. It's in a bank in Europe. I'd do anything, _anything_ , to get away from you—"

Wang-Lung gaped at him. "You're lying."

"I'm not." Yut-Lung laughed. At the very least, there was a sleek look of shock in Wang-Lung's eyes, but it didn't satisfy like he'd thought it would. It only—

Wang-Lung's elbow collided with Yut-Lung's cheekbone. He fell to the floor. His temple smacked the corner of the cherry-wood desk. He saw stars, exploding across Wang-Lung's face.

 _Good. Noise. Get Sing, get Sing and get out—_

"You're not smart enough for that," Wang-Lung said, standing over him.

"Well, I did it. I stole the money from Hua-Lung's business and put it in a bank account, and I'll do it again if I have to, and you'll never be able to prove it." Yut-Lung pulled himself to his knees, but unlike the other times he'd knelt in front of Wang-Lung, he could glare now. He wasn't obeying. "I _hate_ you. I hate all of you. I never wanted to—"

Wang-Lung kicked him in the face. Blood spurted from his nose. Yut-Lung choked.

"You are nothing more than a failure!"

"A failure who bankrupted—"

"Just like your whore mother—"

"She was a better person than you! She had far less choices! And even though I—even though I was just a child forced on her, by a man who raped her, she _loved_ me!" Yut-Lung spat out more blood. "No matter what you say. She. Loved. Me."

 _Mommy... thank you._

Wang-Lung grabbed him by his hair, hauling him to his feet. Yut-Lung had spent his life swallowing those cries, biting his cheek until he tasted the bitter salt of blood, staying quiet, quiet, so as not to be a disturbance, so as to make it end quickly.

When the scream ripped from his throat, it felt freeing.

 _I'm not going to be quiet anymore_.

The door banged against the wall.

"Let go of him!" shouted Shorter. " _Bastard!"_

Hands grabbed Yut-Lung. Eiji, holding him up. Shorter's fist collided with Wang-Lung's jaw. Ash kicked Wang-Lung in the groin. Alex, Kong, and Bones swarmed.

And then a click. Another. Seven clicks.

From seven bodyguards, all pointing black guns at them.

* * *

Eiji clung to Yut-Lung's shoulders. He was gasping, hair hanging loose around his face. Eiji tried to breathe. _That's an actual gun. A gun. Seven guns. With bullets. Probably more than seven bullets._

"Shall we call the police, Wang-Lung?" asked one of the guards.

"For what?" demanded Shorter. "You press assault charges and Yut-Lung will press them right back. And win."

"Not now," Wang-Lung managed. He shook his head. "Lock them in here while I call Dino."

"What?" Ash turned to glare. But the guns were enough to even keep him from lashing out.

"Phones." Wang-Lung gestured, heading for the exit. "Get them."

"Whoa, that's like an abduction," Shorter protested.

"It's more like a citizen's arrest," Wang-Lung countered.

"Phones." The guard held out his hand, cocking the gun. When Eiji saw Yut-Lung obeying, he followed suit.

"Mr. Lee, sir, I heard the ruckus from downstairs—" A new voice cut through all the panic storming Eiji's mind. He froze. Shorter gripped the desk. Ash's mouth twisted as if not to vomit. Yut-Lung sucked in his breath.

 _Lao_.

" _You!"_ shouted Ash.

"They broke in?" Lao demanded. He sounded too excited. Like he'd finally caught a fish that had evaded him for hours.

"Citizen's arrest," said Wang-Lung, wiping his forehead. "They'll be staying here while I phone the police, and Golzine."

 _You—but Sing—_

"Where is Sing?" shouted Yut-Lung. He wiped blood from his nose, pulling away from Eiji. "Lao, where's Sing?"

Lao's brow furrowed. "What are you—"

"You know he's been kidnapped by him!" Yut-Lung jabbed his finger at his brother. "Arthur told us—we were worried when he didn't answer us—"

"That's absurd!" shot back Wang-Lung. "I haven't seen Sing Soo-Ling since the false fire alarm, which, by the way, Lao, he's suspected of pulling."

"But Arthur said," whispered Eiji.

"Why would you take Arthur's word?" demanded Wang-Lung. "Unless you're working with him, after all."

"The fuck?" Ash cried out.

"We couldn't find Sing," Shorter added. "We heard you screaming, Yut-Lung—so we wanted to help you, too—we don't know where he is."

"Not in this house." Wang-Lung scowled. "Accusations of kidnapping are pretty drastic when you clearly just wanted to rob me. You'll be going back to Japan with a criminal record, Okumura. Callenreese, Wong, it'll be back to juvie for you. And Yut-Lung, you'll be locked away for years if I have anything to say about it. In adult prison." He looked to Lao. "You're welcome to search my house, but I haven't seen your brother since he ran away from school. I wouldn't hurt him. You've been helping us track their movements, after all."

Lao's eyes darted from Eiji to Yut-Lung to Ash to Shorter. Eiji's heart sank.

"You've been what?" asked Ash.

"You _traitor_ ," Shorter said. He lunged. The guns clicked. Eiji grabbed one arm, Ash the other. "Fuck you, Lao—my sister would be ashamed of you—your brother—"

"I wanted to protect him!" Lao yelled. "I'm doing this to keep him, and his future, safe, and—"

"Safe?" Ash laughed. "Bullshit. You don't even know where he _is_ right now."

 _You really did this, Lao?_ Tears burned Eiji's eyes.

The door shut behind them, code beeping.

"Fuck," said Alex.

"Was that normal for you?" asked Ash, watching Yut-Lung try to comb his now-unkempt hair. Yut-Lung nodded.

"Shit." Bones dropped down to the floor. "We're so fucked."

"I shouldn't have come," Yut-Lung said, voice morose. "If we'd stayed—I—and we didn't even save Sing—"

"Now Dino's coming," muttered Ash. He let out a broken laugh. "Guess I get to face him after all. And I can't kill him or do anything to him."

"I'm not letting him hurt you," Eiji said. "I meant that when I said it, Ash. I don't give a damn what I have to do. He doesn't get to speak to you. He doesn't get to look at you, not if I—"

"I guess you don't know the code?" Kong asked Yut-Lung.

He shook his head.

"How?" whispered Ash.

Eiji hesitated.

A beep against the door. Shorter grabbed a vase from the desk.

Lao, with two security guards. And the gun was fixed directly on Eiji. _Why me?_

He saw Ash's furious expression, and he knew why, and he wanted to cry. _I'm not going to be your weakness._

 _I want to be your strength._

"Sing's not here," Lao said. "Obviously. So you don't need to worry about him. I just wanted to tell you that."

"I am worried," said Shorter. "With the likes of a toad like you as a brother, I—"

"You disgust me," added Yut-Lung.

"What would _you_ know about family loyalty?" Lao narrowed his eyes. "I heard what you did."

Yut-Lung flinched. "Not much." His voice cracked. "I know it doesn't mean hurting people in attempts to help them, though. Everything you do just pushes Sing away from you."

"I don't have anything to say to you," said Ash. "But Sing deserves better than you."

Lao recoiled. His fingers moved. Eiji stiffened, watching as he flexed his fingers, one, then four at a time, then seven, then one again.

"Enjoy jail," Lao said, turning and storming out.

Shorter opened his mouth again, but Ash stomped on his foot. "Ow!"

"Did you get it?" Ash demanded.

Eiji nodded. "1-4-7-1."

"Huh?" Yut-Lung frowned.

"The code," said Eiji. "He was telling us the code."

"Why would he do that?" Bones squeaked. "To make us all—"

 _We tried to save Sing,_ Eiji realized. _Oh, Lao._

Ash pressed his ear against the door, listening. A few minutes later, and he entered the code.

The door clicked as it unlocked. Ash gestured for them to follow. Yut-Lung pointed down a stairway.

Two steps down and someone let out a shout below.

"Back!" shouted Ash. Eiji grabbed his arm, yanking him back. A bang. The wall exploded. Powder flew into his nose. _Did they actually_ shoot _at us?_

Footsteps clambered behind them. They rushed past the study, up another staircase, and then into a long corridor with a window at the end.

"Split up," said Yut-Lung urgently. "Ash, Eiji, the third bedroom on the right has a decent hiding place in the—"

 _We're not all getting out of here. There are too many of them, and Wang-Lung's too terrifying_.

But he'd promised. And he could see it behind Ash's bleeding green eyes. _You're so scared._

 _You don't know what to do, so you'll fight._

 _It's an automatic response by now, drilled into you._

 _He might look at you. But he won't touch you._ Eiji squeezed Ash's hand.

 _For once, I want to protect you._

Ash glanced at him. Eiji let go of his hand, backing up. "What are you doing?"

"We're four stories up?" Eiji asked, nodding towards the window.

Yut-Lung nodded. "But that window doesn't open, it's just for decoration, and yeah, and there's nothing to—"

"It's okay," Eiji said, yanking his sweatshirt up around his face. His heart thudded. "I know how to fall."

And he took off.

 _Failure._

 _Had so much talent—_

 _They'll eat you alive—_

 _You're amazing—_

 _You're not a coward—_

 _You keep trying—_

He jumped, sneakers slamming into the glass. It shattered around him, falling with him. Eiji's arms wrapped around his head. He twisted to land on his backside. Breath shoved its way out of him. He gagged, dragging himself to his feet.

Nothing broken. A glass shard stuck out of his arm. Eiji took off, running as fast as he would towards a bar to clear.

 _Hello, Ibe, we did exactly the last thing you would have wanted us to do_.

 _But I jumped again._


	13. Wise as Serpents

A shatter, and then he was gone.

Ash raced over to the window. Fear surged. " _Eiji!"_

"Holy hell," mumbled Shorter.

He was gone. He was fast. Ash's breath caught in his throat. _Eiji—you just jumped like that?_

"Found them!" bellowed a voice from around the corner. Ash gritted his teeth. He grasped a shard of glass, slipping it into his pocket. Shorter grasped one himself before they had to raise their hands.

"How did you get the code?" demanded Wang-Lung as they were all shoved into a bedroom next.

"I remembered it," Yut-Lung said snottily.

Wang-Lung reached out, grasping Yut-Lung by his hair again and yanking. Yut-Lung yelped.

" _Stop it!"_ bellowed Shorter.

Wang-Lung backhanded Yut-Lung across the face, and that's when Ash yanked the shard out just as a guard announced, "Wang-Lung, sir, Dino Golzine is here."

"Excellent," said Wang-Lung, pulling back. "Yut-Lung, Ash, come with me."

"Ash isn't going with you," Shorter said.

"Hell no," said Alex.

"Figure out how to get out of here," Ash murmured, leaning against Shorter. He slipped his shard into Shorter's pocket, too. "It's fine, Alex. I'll be fine."

He wasn't going to be fine. His insides clenched and felt as if they'd broken loose inside of him, jumbling together, organs all in the wrong places. _Eiji, please hurry._

 _You killed my brother._

 _All to get me?_

 _If that's what it means to have value, then I'll be trash._

Yut-Lung met his eyes. He looked terrified, too, crimson streaks staining his chin and smeared across his cheeks.

"Wipe that blood off your face," snapped Wang-Lung.

"Do you have a towel?"

Wang-Lung looked as if he was about to punch his brother again. But Yut-Lung was trying to maintain his snarky shield. Good. Ash might need it. Wang-Lung and his guards escorted them down the stairs.

"If you're calling the police, why aren't they here yet?" Ash asked. "I didn't think—"

"Shut up."

Ash didn't think he could continue anyways. His mouth tasted of metal and blood and worser things. His stomach lurched. _Eiji—_

 _Eiji, please be okay._

And there he was, sitting on a lavish sofa with his bald head gleaming under the lights. Ash's fingertips and wrists ached. He wanted to do what Eiji had, even if he wouldn't survive it. Run. Jump. Fall and probably die, but at the least he wouldn't have to face this man again.

Wang-Lung gestured for them to sit in a pair of overstuffed chairs across from Dino. Yut-Lung pressed his lips together.

"Breaking and entering," Dino remarked. "Is surely a probation violation."

"We thought our friend was here," Ash replied. He met the man's eyes, a muddy green in contrast to his clear jade. _You see me as the more refined you, don't you?_

 _I don't want to be you. I don't want to be anything like you. I don't want to. I'd rather slit my own throat._ Ash wished he hadn't given the glass to Shorter.

He wanted to be like Eiji. Free, and kind. The kind of person who comforted others. But he would never be like that.

"Ash," said Dino. "I understand you're living with Max Lobo and—"

"We've talked about this before," Ash cut in. _No, no, please no_.

"Hand over all the work Lobo has done so far in his investigation of me, and we'll release all your friends upstairs. No charges. Which means Shorter can stay out of juvie—or perhaps adult prison this time, I wonder how he'd fare there—and your Japanese friend can stay in the country as well."

Wang-Lung gulped.

 _Eiji_. "You haven't got my Japanese friend, though," Ash said. "He flew."

Golzine's brows drew together. "I bet we've got his fingerprints."

"We didn't even steal anything." Ash's heart thumped in his chest. Too loud.

Wang-Lung sighed, leaning forward. He pulled out his phone, setting it on the table. He clucked his tongue and pressed something. His own voice filled the air.

" _You're not smart enough for that."_

Yut-Lung turned white. He folded in half, hand covering his mouth as if trying not to vomit.

" _I did it. I stole the money from Hua-Lung's business and put it in a bank account, and I'll do it again if I have to, and you'll never be able to prove it. I hate you. I hate all of you. I never wanted to—"_

Ash turned to Yut-Lung, gaping.

Wang-Lung switched it off. "It turns out, my foolish, failure of a little brother, I _am_ able to prove it."

Yut-Lung lifted his head to meet Ash's gaze, his eyes horrified. His nose trickled more blood. "I'm—I'm sorry—"

"That's certainly an adult sentence," Dino mused. "Unless, of course, you decide to have mercy on your brother, Wang-Lung."

"And why would I do that?" Wang-Lung folded his arms. A smirk spread across his face, greasy and slick.

"Ash will hand over the details on the story about me, and when Max and Jessica kick him out, he will return to live with me. I'll adopt him. And Yut-Lung will fire that bodyguard and return to live with you in gratitude for your mercy and generosity."

 _Generosity?_

"You'd _adopt_ me," Ash managed, staring at Dino. His fingers and toes were tingling. His organs all felt like ropes had been tied around them. His neck was about to snap from dread, each vertebrae at once. White horror and red laughter and midnight blue nightmares and a gray hollow emptiness and yellow disbelief all sloshed around, pulling him down, drowning him from the inside.

"Of course. I've invested—"

"I'm not a stock to be bought and sold!" Ash screamed at him. He couldn't stop the laughter bubbling up inside of him, poisoned laughter, burning and stinging his throat, his tongue. "I'm—your—fuck toy, your—" The cackles came too fast, strangling him. He kicked his legs up in the air, throwing his head back against the chair. "I—"

"Ash," whispered Yut-Lung. "Don't do it."

"Huh?" Ash blinked.

"Don't do it! I can—I stole from my brother, fine, put me in prison—"

"I wonder how long a princess like you would last in there," mused Wang-Lung. "Like your bitch mother, you're only good for one thing, and everyone who sees you knows it. That hair? That body? I bet you'd have parties every night. As the guest of honor for those hungry prisoners."

Yut-Lung actually gagged. Tears streamed down his face.

"You are," Ash said. "The sickest, most—both of you are—"

 _Even if you were sent back to juvie_ , Jessica said. _We'd visit you._

 _Would you? Would you really? Even if I stole all of Max's work? Even if I was forced to report—he'll force me to do other things too, he'll graduate to threatening your lives and Michael's, and his wellbeing—you can't move and take me with you—_

 _I want you to be able to move._

 _I want you to be able to take me with you._

 _I hate being a lynchpin pinning people down!_

"I'm your toilet," Ash said again. _Max, Max, where are you this time_? "For flushing away your semen."

Yut-Lung gasped.

Dino rose. His fist collided with Ash's jaw.

 _Eiji, Eiji—_

 _I was stupid for ever thinking I could—_

"You killed my brother," Ash wheezed. "I know about it, Dino. And now you want me to—"

"And you're all alone," Dino said. "You—he was never supposed to die. I didn't even know he was there. I sent them to your place to look around, rough it up, not—"

"Ash, you're not seriously considering—" Yut-Lung shouted. "I'm not worth it!"

"You're not, don't think you are," said Wang-Lung. "But the friends upstairs and the Japanese boy are."

"He has a name," managed Ash. "It's Eiji." He turned to Yut-Lung. "And you are—"

"If you think you are a toilet, then I'm no better," Yut-Lung said. "I'm—I'm—" He covered his mouth again and screamed.

 _Eiji, help me. Eiji, I don't have the right to ask for your help_.

 _There's nothing you can do. It's all on me again_.

It felt like that wasn't true, though, earlier. In Yut-Lung's bedroom. Eiji held him.

 _You can be scared._

 _There are people fighting for you._

 _I love you._

"I hate you," Ash said to Dino. "I actually, actively, hate you. I always have. You think it mattered to me that you hired tutors or fucked me in beds with nice mattresses? You still never saw me as anything more than—than—" _You_. "Eiji would hate you. Eiji loves me. I'm not you."

"Huh?" Dino gaped.

"Don't—accept their offer," said Yut-Lung. "If I get fucked in prison, it's no different than here, so either way—it's the same, I don't care, it's the same, _this is just a fancy prison!"_

"You'd never survive," Wang-Lung scoffed.

"Maybe I don't want to," Yut-Lung choked out. He lifted his face, glaring. "You—butchered my mother—like an animal—you and Hua-Lung raped me over and over and over again—you sold me to god knows how many clients—why would I want to live? The only thing keeping me alive all these years was _hating you!"_

 _What?_ Ash looked to Wang-Lung. Gorge rose. _You raped your own brothe_ r? He'd always seen losing Griffin akin to abuse entering his life. Always had Griff to turn to. If he hadn't—if he hadn't—

"You might as well shoot me right now, or stab me through the throat like you did to her," said Yut-Lung.

 _The only thing keeping me alive..._

 _That wasn't true,_ Ash thought. The only thing keeping Yut-Lung alive wasn't hatred. It was hope. Hope that he would be loved. Hope that he would find friends. Hope.

 _You found them._

"So what?" demanded Wang-Lung. "You look too much like her. She was a whore who ruined our father—and is still ruining—we should have gotten rid of you with her!"

"Well, do it now!" Yut-Lung screamed. He leaped to his feet.

 _You have such hope..._

 _Eiji, you showed me that hope._

"You know the only reason you're still alive is because of your sex appeal, right? Hua-Lung saw potential in you." Wang-Lung cackled. "To be a high-class hooker, which is all you are and all you can ever hope to be for trying to now that you're showing how truly stupid you are! You're a disgusting prostitute, and that's why we used you like one!"

"Fuck you!" Ash shouted, standing. "Fuck you, and fuck you, both of you! You're both nothing more than—rapists!"

"I took care with you," Dino said. "To not hurt you."

"What?" Ash gaped at him. "Not hurt? Physical pain is not—you still—" He was laughing again, laughing and bleeding blood only Yut-Lung could see and understand. "That's the funniest shit I've ever—"

"Wang-Lung?" Lao's voice interrupted.

Wang-Lung stiffened.

 _Why are_ you _here?_ Ash turned to glare. Sobs wracked Yut-Lung, who tried to catch his breath and couldn't.

"There are people at the door," Lao said. "I see you're busy, but they're threatening to call the cops."

Wang-Lung cussed. He got to his feet, storming out of the room. Lao turned as it to follow him. And then he whirled around and brought his boot down on the glass table, on Wang-Lung's phone. A crash echoed, like the sound of the window breaking earlier.

Crushed.

The phone lay in a pile of glass. Plastic and glass shattered alike.

Ash tried to comprehend. Wires stuck out from the back of the phone. He lunged forward, grabbing the memory stick and snapping it in half.

 _No more recording._

Yut-Lung turned to Lao, shock on his face. Ash could almost smile.

"Look out!" Yut-Lung screamed, and then Ash saw Dino's fist collide with the back of Lao's skull. His hand shot out, grabbing Ash by the throat, throwing him to the ground. The back of Ash's skull ground into the glass. He clawed at his throat.

"Let him go!" Yut-Lung grabbed one of the glass shards, cutting himself.

"Get off him!" bellowed another voice, the last voice Ash expected to hear.

 _Huh?_

 _You?_

 _You're here after all? All along?_

Footsteps pounded. "Get off him or you die!" Shorter's voice rang out, too. A click.

Dino sat back. Yut-Lung grabbed Ash, hauling him up and brushing glass off the back of his sweatshirt. Blood dribbled warm down Ash's neck, soaking his hair.

Shorter aimed a gun at Dino. Alex, Bones, and Kong stood behind him. "Gun gets handed over pretty quickly if you have a blade to your throat," he said by way of explanation.

Dino scrambled back. Ash grabbed the largest blade of glass he could and held it to his throat. "You're not going anywhere." His fingers tightened.

"What the fuck is going on in here?" yelled a new voice from the hallway.

"Freeze! Police!"

 _Charlie?_

Shorter dropped the gun, hands flying up. Charlie burst into the living area, his own weapon drawn and aimed at Dino.

"The hell happened?" yelped Max.

 _Max!_

Max, Jessica, Nadia, and Blanca rounded the corner. Blanca also had his weapon trained on Wang-Lung, who was already in handcuffs.

"Shit!" Jessica breathed when she saw Ash, Yut-Lung, and Lao all bleeding.

And then everyone turned to the first voice that had yelled, the voice Ash hadn't expected to hear here in a million years, the voice that first told Ash he wasn't about to die when Dino was strangling him.

Dragon fang, albeit broken, whizzed back into Sing's glove from where it had been wrapped around Dino's throat. Cain stood behind him.

" _Sing!_ " they all screamed.

* * *

Sing blinked. His brain tried to fit it all together—what they'd _heard_ , Lao crumpled on the floor gawping at him, Ash holding glass to Dino's throat, Charlie there with a gun aimed and Wang-Lung Lee in handcuffs. Yut-Lung, tear tracks mixed with blood staining his face.

The names they'd called him… what Yut-Lung said they'd done to him… Sing fixed his gaze on Wang-Lung. "I'd like to see you burn alive, but prison will have to do, you bastard."

Yut-Lung blinked. Shame curdled his features. He turned away.

"Hey," said Sing, gesturing to Wang-Lung. "If he's under arrest, can I press charges for him trying to strangle me earlier today?"

When he felt that hand land on his shoulder in that office, dread had seeped into him. _I'm dead_.

Wang-Lung's hands closed over his throat. Sing had gagged, thrashing and kicking. He hadn't even been able to text Yut-Lung yet about— _when I said I was dead, I didn't mean it literally!_

Something slammed into the back of Wang-Lung's skull. He stumbled, and then Cain shoved him aside and grabbed Sing, and they ran for their lives, Sing trying to somehow get his brain to understand that the principal had just tried to fucking strangle him kill him murder him.

 _That escalated quickly._

"You're a—"

"Liar?" Sing shrugged. "Too bad I still planted that recorder under your desk. And, oops." He gestured to Cain, who held up his own cell phone. "It's fairly easy to break in here, you know. We may or may not have most of that conversation you were just having with Ash and Yut-Lung."

"Too bad for you," said Cain, pressing play.

"— _never survive," Wang-Lung said._ Cain had take care to make sure there was nothing incriminating about Yut-Lung on his phone.

" _Maybe I don't want to. You butchered my mother like an animal…"_

Ash and Yut-Lung both studied the floor.

"Good idea to try and trap them," said Sing to Wang-Lung. "You got caught in your own trap." He couldn't look at Lao. _You were seriously working with them? And you were worried about_ me?

 _You're such a coward._ He wanted to scream. _Why?_

 _Lao, why?_

"Anyways. It's all yours." Cain held the phone out to Charlie, turning off the recorder before it could get into anything too detailed. Yut-Lung bowed his head, hair covering his face.

"Ash," said Blanca. "Drop the glass."

Ash's hand was shaking, blood running down his wrist from his palm. A sharp shard was still aimed at Dino's jugular.

 _Shit._

"Ash, don't," Charlie pleaded.

"Go ahead," said Dino.

 _Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck._ Sing glanced at Cain.

"Tell them," said Ash, voice cracking. "Tell them the one thing you didn't confess to on that fucking tape!" His lips curled. "Tell them, you—"

"You don't—"

"Ash," said Max. "Please put the glass down."

"He killed Griffin!" Ash's eyes met Max's, and Sing realized there was a tear running down Ash's face.

His hero, crying.

His hero, because he didn't need anybody, and everyone respected him, and he had so much freedom.

His hero, who had no freedom and needed them all, who was crying over the loss of his older brother.

"Ash," whispered Sing. "Please don't kill him." _I don't want to lose you._ He still refused to look at Lao.

"Ash," said Shorter. "Don't do this. It's what he deserves, but not here."

"Don't throw your life away for this piece of shit," said Max.

"If you do it," said Blanca. "You'll regret it."

"How would you know?"

"You know how," Blanca said.

"You're the one who taught me how to kill," said Ash, voice trembling. "In many ways. You did. You said I was a killer and you were too—" His voice cracked. "You mixed killing with geometry and Hemingway."

"If you kill him," said Blanca. "I'll take the blame. But think a little more about what that means."

Yut-Lung sucked in his breath. Ash's eyes widened.

What would happen to Yut-Lung, then? And even if Yut-Lung would be fine—and Sing was willing to bet on it—

"I'm sorry," Blanca whispered.

"Ash, stop," said Jessica. Ash's hand started to lower.

"Your brother was never intended to die," said Dino.

Ash tightened his grip again.

"Ash," said Yut-Lung. "He's trying to antagonize you; that's how these scumbags work—"

"Look, dude," said Shorter. "Don't throw _Eiji_ away. He's in the hospital, isn't he? He's gonna want to see you and I don't think he wants to see you through a pane of glass in prison."

"If I do it?" Ash asked, a broken laugh erupting. "Will you hate me?"

"No," said Shorter. "Remember? You forgave me when I got drunk and told Yut-Lung about your—story. I'm more worried about you." He gritted his teeth. "Please just put the fucking glass down."

Ash hesitated.

"Please," Sing said.

Ash tossed the glass onto the floor. It cracked into three pieces. He stumbled back, raising his bloody hand to his face.

"Okay," said Charlie, exhaling as he handcuffed Dino. "So, how many people need to go to a hospital?"

"I'll take them," Blanca said.

"I'm going with Ash," said Jessica, grabbing him and keeping him upright. Ash's legs didn't seem like they wanted to work. Hell, he _had_ lost a lot of blood. Crimson soaked the back of his sweatshirt.

"When you asked me to help," Cain mumbled. "I don't know what I was expecting, Sing, but this was not it."

Lao staggered to his feet, glass still sticking to his vest and in his hair. A lump grew in Sing's throat. _How could you do this? How could you yell at me about their moral character when you teamed up with the worst of the worst?_

 _Lao, you're my brother._

 _Lao..._

Sing reached out to Yut-Lung, hauling him to his feet. Yut-Lung couldn't look at him.

Max's phone buzzed. "Ibe says Eiji's doing well. And he's asking for you, Ash."

Ash's feet crunched on the glass. He lifted his head, still clinging to Jessica. He nodded. "Tell him—I'm coming."

Sing figured it would be more likely Eiji would come to visit him since he had the feeling Ash's injuries were going to take some time to sort out, but he didn't feel like offering that information.


	14. Innocent as Doves

"I can't believe you were actually that worried about me," Sing remarked.

Yut-Lung scowled. They were home, now. It was the middle of the night, and they'd finally given enough statements to be dismissed from the police station. Eiji and Ash had to stay overnight at the hospital for evaluation. Nadia said she would take care of Lao. Sing hadn't seemed to want to go with his brother, so Yut-Lung offered to let him come with him and Blanca.

Sitting on the couch in the living area, sipping jasmine tea, Yut-Lung almost felt safe. Almost. He knew what they'd overheard, all of them, and fear wriggled against the back of his skull. "You're my friend," he answered. "Right?"

Sing nodded.

"I was worried when you didn't answer your phone."

"My phone was smashed."

"Well, Cain still had his," Yut-Lung pointed out.

Sing's jaw dropped. "Are you actually lecturing me?"

"I'm pointing out that people care about you and they worry when you imply you're doing something stupid and then you vanish!" _I didn't want to lose you._

 _You were my first friend._

 _You knew I was a snake after what I did to Shorter, and you still offered to help me._

 _You give me hope._

"Sorry I worried you," Sing said softly. He clutched the mug of tea, doubling over. "You really went—back to that place for me?"

"I wasn't going to leave you to him. You heard what he's like." Yut-Lung's face burned. He set the tea down. He tried to breathe. "I know better than anyone what he's capable of and—"

"Well, thank you," Sing broke in.

 _Oh_. Yut-Lung lifted his eyes, meeting Sing's. Shadows stretched along the room, elongated in the orange lamplight, softening when they reached the wall.

"I think that's pretty brave," Sing admitted, leaning back into the dark again.

"You're upset about Lao, aren't you?" Yut-Lung asked.

Sing rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Obviously." He set the mug down on a carved stand. How extra did one have to be to carve Lee family dragons into the side table? Yut-Lung tugged his hair over his tattoo. Sing covered his eyes.

Yut-Lung hesitated, reaching out. His hand hovered.

Sing shook his head, but still kept his eyes covered. "I'm all right, I'm—"

Yut-Lung put his hand on Sing's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Sing let out a sob. "He—he's such a _hypocrite_ , and—" He pounded his fist into his knee.

"He is," Yut-Lung agreed. "But he did save us. He smashed Wang-Lung's phone and that recording to help me. And he let us out of the room, first, so we could escape."

"Probably only because he realized you were trying to help me. Otherwise he'd've left you there."

"Is that so bad?" Sing finally dropped his hands from his face. Yut-Lung gulped. "I probably would have—given up my life if it weren't for you reaching out earlier. You heard what was said today, what Wang-Lung and Hua-Lung would do to me—rape me and sell me to others, too. I kept doing shady things because I just—thought—it was the only way to keep people close, to get people to love me—I don't know why Lao was so stupid, but he—was probably desperate."

"But that just makes me not like him."

"I know. It's stupid." Yut-Lung shrugged.

"No," Sing said, leaning out of the shadows. "It's not."

"You can stay here as long as you like," Yut-Lung said.

Sing fell asleep in Yut-Lung's bed, but Yut-Lung couldn't sleep. He went to brew a new cup of tea. He found Blanca sitting in the kitchen, a bottle of whiskey in front of him. "Oooh." Yut-Lung reached for it.

"No." Blanca yanked it away.

"I was just teasing." Yut-Lung swallowed. _Are you mad at me?_

"Do you have something you want to ask me?" Blanca rose.

Yut-Lung scowled. He held his hands over the steam, letting it warm him, and pulled them away before it got too hot. "Are you angry?"

"Yes."

Yut-Lung wanted to jump into the tea kettle. "At me?"

"No."

"Really?" Yut-Lung's eyes widened.

"I'm pissed at your brothers and at Golzine," said Blanca. "You are a child. Trying to survive it doesn't make you bad."

"It doesn't make you bad either, then," Yut-Lung said. _I'm still afraid you'll leave me_.

 _Because you think you're bad, don't you? For the assassin thing. For what happened to Ash. And you were terrible._

 _But you're not terrible right now, to me_.

"I'm an adult."

"Now." _You can still learn, can't you? Even if you can't ever take back what happened with Ash._

 _Please help me._

 _If you have to earn it, then can't you?_

Blanca sighed. "I was proud of what you said earlier, to Sing."

"Huh?" Yut-Lung asked. He poured himself a cup of tea. _Proud?_ No one had ever said they were proud of him. His brothers never even told him that he'd done a good job.

"Yes," said Blanca. "Proud. You and Ash both seem to have... turned out all right. In spite of it all. No, despite it all. Dino, your brothers, me." He gulped more whiskey.

"You're not like them."

"They're people who destroy others to feel like they can live."

"Stop it," Yut-Lung said, irritated. "Sure, fine, but you're not like them. You're not sadistic, and you want not to be, right? I sincerely doubt Wang-Lung or Dino Golzine are capable of looking at their faces in the mirror and seeing anything other than what they think they ought to be looking back at them!"

 _I saw Ash, looking back at me. And I wanted to be him_.

Now, he wanted to be someone who would make his mother proud. Sing proud. Ash, Eiji, Shorter. Blanca, too. Tears leaked out from his eyes. _Please..._

"You're wiser than you should have to be," Blanca said. "In some ways. Sneaking out was still stupid as hell."

Yut-Lung snorted. Being scolded, at least, felt like a comfort. Because he knew Blanca wouldn't hurt him. He met his guardian's eyes. "You should be able to become who you want to become."

 _Who do you want to be?_

 _I want to see him. I want to see who you want to be. I want to see you happy. But I also don't want you to go._ He wiped at his eyes.

"Yut-Lung," Blanca said. "I'm not going to leave, okay? You need a guardian. Your brothers are surely not ever getting custody of you again, and you're still only sixteen."

Yut-Lung's chest felt as if light exploded inside it. "You won't leave?"

Blanca shook his head. A small smile spread across his face.

"You mean it?"

"Didn't I just say that?"

 _You do mean it. This is who you want to be._ "Thank you," he whispered.

Blanca looked into his cup of whiskey, sighed, and dumped it down the drain. "Bear with me, though."

"Okay, Dad. If you bear with me."

"Do not call me that."

"Okay, Dad." Yut-Lung couldn't help it.

" _Yut-Lung!"_

* * *

"Thank you, Charlie."

Shorter pretended to mind his own business as he glanced over his shoulder. Nadia stood on tiptoe to peck Charlie on the lips.

Lao's mouth hung open. Shorter glared at him. _Gonna say anything about it?_

Lao didn't look like he was up for any kind of smart remark. He wrapped his arms around himself.

"You look scared shitless," said Shorter.

Lao studied his feet.

"Calm down," Shorter said. "Ash isn't going to hate you."

"He isn't?" Lao's brow furrowed. "I don't get it. Why not? I basically—"

"Yut-Lung already texted me that he didn't hate you."

"He _will_. Sing's staying with him."

"Yeah," said Shorter. "Sing, I don't know about. I mean, the reason he's pissed at you is all your fault, you know that, right?"

Nadia shut the door. She headed to the kitchen instead of intervening, so Shorter took that as her blessing.

"Instead of actually listening to Sing and what he wanted and what he felt, you had to go and decide you knew what was best for him, and he almost did get strangled by Wang-Lung and had to break into the house to save _your_ sorry ass in addition to ours," Shorter said. He glared at him. "You're his older brother? Then you should act like it, instead of being an arrogant kid assuming you know everything when really you don't know anything about anything important as it relates to Sing, or to Ash, or to me. If you were really worried, then why didn't you ask me things? Or did you hate me too?"

"No!" Lao shouted. "Of course not! Shorter, I—you know I look up to—"

"So you were really petty," said Shorter, leaning back. "And _jealous_ , weren't you? That your brother had other people to look up to. Well, maybe if you didn't try to control him he would look up to you too! Or if you just trusted him to make some of his own decisions. What's he ever done to make you not trust him?"

"Shut up!"

"It's true," Shorter continued, fury shaking him. "All of it, isn't it? You just don't want to be left alone. Again. So you hurt the people you were trying to protect. Sing, and me. Congratulations."

Lao gaped at him. And then his face crumpled. He doubled over. Loud sobs tore from his throat.

Shorter knew they'd called Lao and Sing's mother from the police station. She hadn't shown, despite answering the call. So she knew. She just chose something or someone or who the hell even knew what else.

And his rage snapped, breaking. Exhaustion settled into his shoulders.

"None of us hate you, though," Shorter managed. "I mean, I'm pissed at you. A lot. But I don't hate you, and neither does Ash. I texted him, too, to ask. He said as much. He said he doesn't blame you."

"Huh?" Lao lifted his face, tears and snot running down it.

Shorter dropped down next to Lao, showing him the texts. "See?"

Lao wiped his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

"I don't hate you either," Shorter said again. He remembered trying to convince Nadia they were alive, back at that funeral home, clinging to the belief for months, and the cold realization they weren't.

 _She's not coming._

"But you're all about loyalty," said Lao.

"Yeah," said Shorter, tongue heavy in his mouth. "And when I fucked up, Ash still wanted to be my friend."

* * *

"Ow," Ash complained as the doctor examined his head, tutting about how many stitches he'd need. He glanced at Max, standing in the corner of the small emergency room. It reeked of antiseptic.

" _Eiji's okay._ " Max had told him this when they got to the hospital, and that was all Ash wanted to hear. _He's okay. He's okay. He's okay._

He still couldn't fathom what it would take to launch himself from that window.

"Be back." The doctor clapped Ash on the shoulder. He jerked away. The doctor didn't notice, but Max definitely did. Ash bit his lip.

"Ash…"

"Is Jessica with Michael?" Ash asked.

Max nodded. "She said she'd be over in the morning. The doctor's probably keeping you; you lost a lot of blood."

"Yeah, the bag of blood draining into my arm is giving me that impression." Ash leaned back. "Sorry I'm taking you away from your son."

"Huh?" Max's jaw dropped. "That isn't true."

"It is so. You don't have to protect me, okay? I can handle—"

"Maybe I can't protect you," said Max. "But Ash. Yet again. Jessica and I don't see you like a burden. Michael's just worried about you. And you're our kid too, at this point."

"Huh?" Ash didn't understand. The lights of the stupid room burned his eyes. Did doctors want everyone to get migraines or something? "I'm a lot more work than him."

"Not true. You didn't cry every night at two in the morning for two years. It's only been a couple months."

Ash's heart pounded. "Max, I just almost killed Dino. I still almost wish I had."

"He killed Griffin," said Max.

Tears slipped out of Ash's eyes. " _I_ killed Griffin."

"What?" Max pried himself off the wall he had been leaning against.

Ash told him about trying to placate that teacher to not get reported, how it hadn't worked. "It was my fault."

"Oh, Ash, no," Max said, dropping down on the foot of the cot Ash was resting on. "It isn't your fault."

"It is. I blamed you for driving that night, when I abandoned him, when the whole reason he had no options in his future was me, because he wanted to raise me, and then he still couldn't, and I couldn't even take care of him. It's me." Ash couldn't move his head without pain slashing through him, but he deserved it. He just had to lie here and cry.

"Ash," Max said. "None of that was your fault. Griff loved you. He talked about you all the time. A bunch of the guys didn't believe you were his brother and downright thought you were his son because of how much he talked about you."

The words he'd long thought but couldn't put into the air congealed in his mouth. He choked them out: "I ruined his life."

"No, Ash, you did not. He loved you. He kept so many photos of you. When he was unconscious, I told him to live for you. The reason he stayed alive so long was you. I'm sure of it. Even if he wasn't really himself. He still got to see you again." Max used tissues to wipe Ash's face. "He loved you, Ash. He did. You haven't ruined anyone's life. Not even your own."

"I miss him," Ash whispered.

"Me, too." Max wiped at his own eyes. "Ash, he said, when we were in Iraq, how much he wanted to see you again when he got back, how he wanted to see you smile."

"He never did."

"Didn't he? Even if he didn't realize it? And you think he isn't watching you now? You think he isn't proud of you? I've seen you smile. With Eiji, and with your friends, with Michael when you were helping him with his math homework yesterday. You make a lot of people smile."

 _Griffin... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._

He never feared, growing up, that calling out for his brother after a nightmare wouldn't result in Griffin rushing into his room to defend him. He would hug him.

 _Even now, you left me Max and Jessica and Michael, didn't you?_

 _You are still taking care of me._

 _I love you, Griff._

"Dino said he was going to adopt me tonight," Ash admitted. "I would rather have died."

"Well, he's going to jail," said Max. "And you're _never_ going back to him."

Ash's eyes stung. "I'm sorry we—snuck out."

Max's brows rose as if he was surprised to hear Ash's apology. "Jessica and Nadia panicked when they saw that you were gone."

Guilt swarmed him. "I just—"

"I know," Max said. "But: let us help you. Please, Ash. In the future, let us handle things—"

"I'm not some helpless—"

"—child?" Max sat back on the foot of the cot Ash was resting on. "I know, now. You never had the chance to be, did you?"

Ash thought of Michael, laughing and showing off his spelling tests. Ash never got to do that. He shook his head.

"I know you're not a child in many ways," Max said again. "But you're still only sixteen. Your childhood's not over yet, and now that Dino's gone, well, there goes the biggest threat. Jessica and I want to give you one. A childhood. If you'll let us."

Ash's throat closed up. "How?" he managed.

Max shrugged. " _How_ is up to you. All we'd ask is that you trust us as much as you can. If you can't, or if we do something to make you not trust us, tell us."

Ash swallowed.

"You're not alone, Ash."

Eiji. Max. Jessica. Shorter. Yut-Lung. Sing. "Okay," he whispered. "I can—try."

"That's all you can do," Max agreed.

* * *

Sing woke up around noon. Yut-Lung's mattress felt like sleeping on air. Rich people. He sat up, spotting Yut-Lung curled up on his couch, fast asleep. He looked almost peaceful with his eyes closed, hair strewn over the pillow and one hand daintily tucked under his chin. Sing grabbed a blanket from the bed and dumped it over him.

Sing scribbled a quick note and plastered it to the bathroom mirror.

 _I'll call you later from someone else's phone. I'm going to see my brother._

He slipped out of the house, the air downright icy. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he made his way towards the apartment they grew up in. He unlocked the door. Empty. His mother hadn't even come home, though he knew they'd called her.

 _Bitch_.

"Sing?"

He turned to see Nadia standing behind him. "Shorter saw you walking here. Lao's at our place."

"Oh." Sing shrugged. So she clearly knew he was looking for his brother and not for a change of clothing. He followed her across the street to her restaurant and up the stairs to the apartment.

Shorter waved at him, looking half asleep as he sipped a cup of coffee in sweatpants and a stained t-shirt from his perch on the sofa. "Lao's in my room."

Sing nodded.

"I let him have it."

Sing's eyes popped. "Seriously?"

"Uh-huh." Shorter bit his lip. "He misses you."

Sing nodded. "I'll just talk to him, then."

Shorter smiled. "You're pretty brave to show up this soon."

"Huh?"

"Never mind." Shorter shook his head.

Sing rapped on the door.

"Coming," came Lao's groggy voice. Sing shoved the door open.

Lao froze. The room was narrow, with a slanted ceiling and posters of sports teams and actresses in bikinis hung haphazardly on the walls. The dresser's top drawer was broken, clothes hanging out. "Sing."

"Yo," said Sing, shutting the door behind him. "I went to our place, but you weren't there."

Lao shook his head. "Sing, I—"

"Save it," Sing cut in. "I mean. Don't talk. Not right now. Not yet." He cussed, leaning back against the window. A draft from the frigid air wove its way in, dragging its fingernails down his spine. "Wang-Lung almost killed me yesterday. Cain saved my fucking life. And then Yut-Lung and Ash—you heard what they were saying. You heard what Wang-Lung and Golzine did to them. You spent hours and hours lecturing me and yelling at me and trying to keep me away from Ash and Yut-Lung, and all along you've been _working with_ them?"

"Not all along," Lao croaked. "Just—the past week—or two—"

"To protect me? I needed protection from you in the end, it turns out." Sing snorted. "How does it feel, working for someone who tried to strangle me? I'm a goddamn person, Lao. I'm not just your little brother. I'm not a reflection of you. I'm not a doll for you to stuff away in your closet. I'm a person, and I have friends who—would break into the house where their worst enemies are to save me. And those friends might be murderers and other things, but they're people too. You can't control me. I'm not a wind-up toy."

Lao looked at Sing, tears streaming down his face. He sat on the bed, slumped.

"Aw, shit," said Sing. "Lao, you know—the reason I haven't been hanging with you as much is because I don't—no matter what I do, you're always going to criticize, you're always going to try and control—I can't live like that. That's not living." _Please understand. Please hear me, now._

"I know you're not her," Lao managed.

"Huh?" Sing pulled himself away from the window.

Lao wiped at his eyes. "I know you're not—Mom. If anything, I'm like her. I'm—I thought I could be different, and I still—just wound up hurting you."

"Yeah," said Sing, a lump in his throat. "But you're still my brother."

Lao's eyes widened. He gulped. Tears still streamed down his cheeks.

Sing didn't think he'd ever seen his brother cry before. He was always tough, always trying, always refusing to break.

 _You were always broken inside, weren't you? Terrified._

 _You don't feel any braver than I do._

 _I never saw. Or, I did, but I didn't want to._

"You don't have to keep it all together," whispered Sing. "It _doesn't_ all depend on you. It depends on me, too. So let's—keep us both safe. Both of us. And that means relying on our friends, too. Not just Shorter and Nadia, but Ash and Yut-Lung too. They care."

"Ash told Shorter he didn't hate me."

"Not surprised." Sing dropped down next to Lao. He looked up at him. The lump grew bigger. His eyes stung. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For trying. And for taking care of me all these years." It had been a burden, hadn't it? Something Lao shouldn't have to bear. But he had. And he never resented Sing, did he? _You're stronger than you think._

Lao blinked.

 _You can be weak, too_. If anything Sing would probably respect him more for that. "I don't want a hero. Or a father. I just want a brother."

Lao's eyes crumpled, and a sob tore from his throat.

Sing threw his arms around him. Lao pressed his head into Sing's shoulder.

"I'm sorry for pushing you away," Sing said.

"I know why you did," Lao eked out. "I can't—blame you."

"Fair." Sing pulled back. "I want to be able to tell you things. I want to be able to—I think you're still—I love you. You're my brother." His face burned. So sentimental.

"I want to be someone you can trust," Lao admitted.

"So, we'll work on it. Together." Sing held his hand out.

Lao took it.

 _You're my brother. No matter what._

 _I love you._

"I admire you," Lao said. "Sing."

"This is too fluffy for me," Sing complained.

Lao rolled his eyes.

"Oh, can I use your phone to text Yut-Lung?" Sing asked, desperate to change the subject. "Just to let him know where I am and that we've made up, since he was asleep when I left. Also, he kind of said he related to you."

"He did?" Lao handed his phone over. "But he's not in my contacts."

"Yup, he did." Sing typed the number. "And that's okay."

"You know it by heart?" Lao asked, a strange note to his voice.

Sing shrugged.

"Well," said Lao. "He's very—attractive."

Sing smacked his brother's shoulder.

* * *

"You're free to go." The doctor gave Eiji a tired smile.

Eiji yawned. He hadn't slept much all night. He'd been halfway back to Yut-Lung's place before he realized he was bleeding badly, red pumping from a gaping cut to his bicep. His hip throbbed, but he couldn't let that slow him down. He wasn't going to let them down.

He snatched a phone from a terrified older lady, who sent the cops to him, thank God, and after the cops tied a tourniquet to his arm, with one of them dialing Charlie for him, the adults finally showed up. Ibe had blanched at the sight of Eiji with his sweatshirt soaked in blood, shivering on the pavement because the streetlights and faces around him were spinning.

" _They're at Wang-Lung's place—they have guns—"_

And then he passed out, and when he woke he was in an ambulance with Ibe holding his hand like he was a child. Ibe stayed by his side throughout the night, when the doctor sewed up his arm and lectured him about being lucky he hadn't severed an artery because he'd have been dead by then, and when he received a blood transfusion.

" _Ash is okay," Ibe assured him later. "They all are. Ash is in the hospital, too, but he'll be all right. Just lost some blood too." The corner of his lip twitched. "You two are two peas in a pod."_

"Can I see Ash?" he asked Ibe, arm in a sling.

"Of course." Ibe put his hand on Eiji's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Ibe-san," Eiji whispered as they got in the elevator.

"That was a pretty foolish thing to do," Ibe admitted, pressing the seventh button.

Eiji nodded. "I just—wanted to be useful."

"You don't have to prove that, you know," Ibe said. "Whether you are or aren't, that doesn't make you worth anything more or less."

"No, but it makes me feel better."

"Eiji," said Ibe. "I don't think you saved Ash by jumping last night. Part of it, yes, but that wasn't the full thing."

Eiji's eyes widened.

"You've been jumping since you got here," Ibe said. "I just wish it'd be a little less terrifying for me." He snorted.

 _If I jump, it means falling, and risking breaking something_.

 _But if I hadn't broken my ankle and torn my ligaments, I never would have come here. I never would have met Ash_.

He remembered clutching the pole, staring, staring, and trying to run only to slow, his mind screaming at him.

 _There are far more frightening things_ _than falling._

Ibe knocked on the door to Ash's room. _Callenreese, Aslan J_ , read the whiteboard.

"If I have to deal with another nurse hitting on me, I'm going to jump from the window," complained Ash's voice.

"I'll kill them," offered Jessica. "You choose the method, but it's going to hurt." She did not sound like she was joking.

"I take it you're not eating your banana," said Max's voice. "I'll just—"

They rounded the corner in time to see Ash stabbing the banana on his hospital food tray with his fork. He glowered at Max. Max laughed. A small boy—Michael—sat by the hospital window, looking out at a forest of buildings.

"Ash!" Eiji exclaimed.

"Eiji!" Ash's eyes lit up. "You're okay!"

" _You're_ okay!" Eiji gaped at him. "Your head's all bandaged!"

"You jumped out a fourth-story window!"

"I've been discharged."

Ash scowled. "Well, excuse me."

They both snorted. Ash handed Eiji half his banana.

"Want some breakfast, Michael?" Jessica asked brightly. "Shunichi, Max, come to the cafeteria."

"I already a—" Ibe started, but she stepped on his toes.

They closed the door behind them. Ash rolled his eyes, dropping the banana peel onto the tray and shoving it aside. "Max said you lost a lot of blood."

"But I'm fine," Eiji pointed out again. He clenched his fists together, bowing over. _Ash, I was really so scared._

"Thank you," Ash said. "No one ever really—went and got help for me before."

"I thought I might not see you again when I jumped," Eiji said honestly. "And I knew—I absolutely had to. So I wasn't going to pass out. I had to make it." Blood felt as if it was boiling under the skin of his cheeks. "I'm so glad I did."

"And still, I almost fucked it up," Ash said. He looked outside, at the city. "I almost killed Dino, Eiji. I wanted to. Blanca and Max and Sing and Yut-Lung and Shorter all had to talk me down."

"But you didn't," said Eiji.

"I would have."

"You don't scare me," Eiji said.

Ash gulped. His eyes stayed glued on Eiji's.

The door burst open. "Mr. Callenreese!" called the doctor. "Just one more exam, and then you can go home."

"Thank God," mumbled Ash.

"I'll be right outside." Eiji scrambled towards the door. His phone was buzzing anyways. He took it from his pocket. His jaw fell open. "Mom?"

"It's actually me," said his sister. "Well, _and_ Mom. We heard you were in some kind of accident? You got kidnapped?"

"That makes it sound worse than it was!" Eiji stopped himself. _No, actually, we broke into a house to save our friend whom we thought was kidnapped but actually he had to save us all, and—_

"Eiji-kun, are you all right?" demanded his mother's voice.

"Yes," Eiji said. "Really. I promise." He leaned back against the white walls. A smile glossed over his face. "I really am all right. Ibe's here, and I have friends—it's nothing. Breaking my ankle was worse."

"Well, okay," she said slowly.

"Must be my good luck charm!" chirped his sister.

"Oh, about that charm!" Eiji scowled. "That's a love charm, sis!"

"It is?" She sounded surprised. "Well, have you met anyone?"

Eiji caught his breath. The doctor emerged from the room, nodding at him. "Can I call you back?"

"That's a yes!" his sister shrieked.

"Have fun, Eiji," said his mother.

Eiji hung up. "Clean bill of health?" he called, entering the room.

Ash gave him a thumbs up, trying to wrangle his t-shirt over his bandaged scalp.

Eiji laughed, dropping his phone onto Ash's bed. "You look like a ghost."

Ash growled.

"Let me help you." Eiji helped him put on his t-shirt and then his sweatshirt.

"Thanks," Ash mumbled, face red.

"My parents didn't ask me to come home," Eiji said. "My mom called. Just now. And my sister."

Ash studied him. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Eiji said. "This feels—more like a home than any place else. Not the hospital. But with Ibe, and with you."

Ash nodded.

 _You know what I mean_. He didn't even need to say it.

"Max and Jessica told me they want to give me a childhood," said Ash. "I don't even know what that'll be like."

"Scared?" Eiji slid his eyes towards Ash.

Ash scoffed. "Absolutely not." A total lie, and they both knew it. Ash smirked.

"It's okay," said Eiji. "I was scared to come here. It's new. But I'm glad I took the risk."

"I'm glad you did, too," Ash said softly.

Eiji turned to him.

"I feel like I can—be—someone else with you," Ash said. "Or not someone else. Me, I suppose. Like all the things that have happened to me, that I've done—they don't matter, or they do, but they don't affect how you see me, and I—"

"You've always just been blonde boy who thankfully made it so that I wasn't the only new kid," Eiji said.

" _Just?"_ Ash's jaw dropped.

 _Your intelligence, your strength, your bravery—it's all good, but I don't need you to be any of those things_.

 _I like you because you're vulnerable, too, and you inspire me, and I—you're you._

"You're strange, Eiji," declared Ash. "And awesome."

"Oh, I am?" Eiji teased. "I like that."

Ash snorted. He reached out and traced the strap of the sling. Eiji shrugged. "Thank you," Ash whispered.

"Thank you," Eiji managed to say back. He didn't know why, but he was watching Ash's eyes, like jade, and he felt like he was floating but his voice box was sticky.

"Eiji?" Ash ventured.

"Yeah?"

"If I—I mean—if I were to—ask if I could kiss you, would you be upset? You can say no. You don't have to. It was just—" Now Ash's face was bright scarlet, like any other sixteen-year-old who couldn't play it cool in front of someone he liked.

 _And I'm that someone_?

 _I don't want you cool. I want you on fire. I want you burning, and rising again_. Eiji nodded. "I'd like that."

Ash's eyes widened. He leaned in then, face closer and closer. He cupped Eiji's chin, sliding his hand around into Eiji's hair. He hesitated.

And then he leaned down, pressing his lips into Eiji's, soft at first, and then deeper. Eiji felt the air leave him, and he copied Ash. _I've never been kissed before._ He wasn't entirely sure what to do, but he realized that Ash didn't quite know either.

 _I like kissing you._

They pulled apart, Ash resting his forehead against Eiji's.

"Whoa," said Michael's voice from the doorway.

Eiji spun to see Max, Jessica, and Ibe arriving.

"Mom, they were _kissing!"_


	15. A Little Child

"Eiji, I'm going to break my neck."

Yut-Lung snorted as he watched his friends on the field.

"You won't!" Eiji insisted. "There are fluffy mats! Very fluffy!"

"It's freezing." Shorter rubbed his arms, teeth chattering. A gray December sky loomed overhead.

"You're just a chicken," teased Eiji. A giant pole lay on the brick-hued track.

"Hey, we're at least _doing_ this," grumbled Ash, pushing his hair back. "Look at those losers."

Yut-Lung tossed his hair. "I have no interest in running across a frozen track and launching myself into the air when I could rest on the bleachers and sip hot chocolate, thank you." His hands were covered in warm, soft mittens. Nadia had given them to him.

"I would try, but like, when it's warmer," Sing said, glancing at Yut-Lung.

Yut-Lung offered him half of the blanket so they could share as they watched. His face heated as Sing pressed closer. He handed Sing a mug of hot chocolate. "Careful; it'll burn your mouth."

"Lao would probably be thrilled." Sing took a sip as if to prove he wasn't scared, and then recoiled, hacking. "Holy hell! It's like boiling!"

"These are the kind of mugs that keep it warm for six hours," Yut-Lung said proudly.

Sing rolled his eyes, leaving the cap off to let it cool down.

"Lao didn't come today?" Yut-Lung leaned back, watching as Eiji hesitated. And then he ran, faster and faster and faster, and he flung himself into the air and over a bar, set far lower than ones he'd cleared in the past, but still cleared it.

"Eiji?" Ash raced towards the mat.

"I'm fine, no broken neck!" Eiji chortled, hopping off the mat.

"No," said Sing. "He's helping Nadia at the restaurant, actually. He really wanted a job, so she hired him."

"Is your mom coming for Christmas?" Yut-Lung asked. He had nagged Blanca until Blanca agreed to invite the Wongs, and Sing and Lao, and the Glenreeds with Ash, and Ibe and Eiji.

"Doubt it. I saw her last weekend briefly." Sing let out his breath. "She was drunk and waved at me. Didn't even speak."

"I'm sorry," Yut-Lung said quietly. His mother had loved him. He felt certain of that, at the very least.

 _Why did you love me? I was forced on you._ A child of her abuse, and yet she combed his hair, told him stories, danced with him in their apartment, pulled him close and whispered that she loved him when he drifted off to sleep.

 _You chose to._

 _I don't know why, but you did_.

Blanca had chosen to stay with him, too.

Ash started running, and then he slowed, stopping, gaping up at the bar. He shook his head.

"Scaredy-cat!" hollered Sing. Yut-Lung kicked him. "Ow!"

"Says the guy in the bleachers!" yelled Shorter, laughing.

"I heard they're going to the winter formal together," Yut-Lung said, watching as Eiji talked to Ash.

"Good," said Sing. "It's funny, watching him struggle with something."

"He's got Eiji, though," Yut-Lung observed. "He'll figure it out."

Shorter crashed horribly. Thank goodness for the mats.

He sipped his hot chocolate, watching as Eiji slung his arm around Ash's shoulders. Finally, cool enough. The sweet tasted dissolved in his tongue. Eiji was Ash's strength, and his weakness. Eiji made Ash human, and Ash made Eiji human, and they were both living, not on a pedestal and not cowering in shadows, and his heart ached.

 _I think I'm more like Eiji than like you, Ash._

 _I'm still scared._

Wang-Lung was gone, imprisoned. Arthur, too, expelled and arrested for what he'd done with Ash's tape. But other kids were talking, murmuring about Yut-Lung, all sorts of rumors. It sucked. Even with his brothers gone, he was still encased in this flesh, stamped with this name, embroidered with a tattoo that he remembered seeing six times as his mother was killed.

"You okay?" Sing asked him.

"Hmph." Yut-Lung blew his bangs up.

"You pretend to be so tough," Sing remarked, grabbing his hot chocolate. "It's good."

"Excuse me?" _Pretend?_

"Yeah," said Sing. "But you're not."

Yut-Lung set his mug down on the metal bleachers with a clank. "Well, neither are you!"

Sing's eyes popped. "Hey!"

"You're not," Yut-Lung said. "You act like you are, but you're soft. You care about Lao and about your friends and you didn't want to be my friend last year not because Lao was so strict, but because you were worried about him. It just got to the point where you couldn't take it anymore this year, am I right?" He knew he was. He felt pleased.

Sing scowled. "Shut up."

"I don't want to." Yut-Lung watched as Ash lined up to try again. "I don't mind looking girly. I look like my mother. I think it's a good thing."

Sing watched him. "I don't think it's a bad thing, either. From what you've said, your mother sounds cool. Brave."

Brave. Yut-Lung's throat tightened.

Sing reached out, lifting Yut-Lung's ponytail off his tattoo. Yut-Lung jerked away. "What are you doing?"

"You don't have to hide that," Sing said.

"Do you even know what it is?"

"Obviously," said Sing. "But I don't hate that part of you."

"Huh?" Yut-Lung blinked. And then his elbow jerked against his hot chocolate, spilling it all over his coat. "Shit!"

Sing grabbed the blanket, using it to wipe it away from Yut-Lung's yellow coat. "It'll come out."

"I'm sure, but—"

"I only said that because I think—you hate yourself like Ash hates himself—for being a Lee. But I don't hate that about you. I don't care where you come from, and I do care because you care. But your history and what they've done doesn't reflect how I see you—or how any of us see you." Sing's face flushed.

Yut-Lung stared.

Ash took off running, holding his pole.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend," said Sing.

"You're blushing," Yut-Lung said.

"What?" Sing shrieked. "I am not!"

Ash planted the pole in the ground.

"You are," said Yut-Lung.

Sing huffed.

Ash flew through the air, crashing onto the mats. He sat up, laughing. Eiji was cheering, Shorter taking a video.

"That's okay," said Yut-Lung. "Thank you, Sing. For—everything." He held Sing's gaze.

"Why are you tearing up now?" yelped Sing.

Yut-Lung shrugged.

"Oh, fuck it," said Sing. He leaned in, hand brushing Yut-Lung's ponytail off his shoulder. Yut-Lung caught his breath. Sing looked up.

 _Do you? Do you really want this?_

Sing's arm rested around Yut-Lung's shoulder.

Yut-Lung wasn't sure if he lowered his lips to Sing's first or if Sing came up to meet his, but Sing's arm tightened around him, and Yut-Lung's heartbeat sped up pace. _You—you—_

 _You like me._

 _I like you. A lot._

 _I can like. I can be liked._

 _I am human._

Shorter's wolf-whistle cut through the air. Yut-Lung pulled back to see Ash and Eiji rolling their eyes as Shorter hooted at Sing and Yut-Lung. Sing flipped them off.

* * *

"This is dumb," Ash said. "Do parents actually do this?"

"We do," said Max. "And we're parents. So yes."

Ash tossed him a withering look. "It's not prom."

"It's practice for it."

Ash glared at his reflection, hair brushed back, suit pristine, tie the color of jade. He'd traded the earring Dino had punched in his ear for money he'd anonymously sent to Nadia to set up a college fund for Sing. "I'm not going."

"What if Eiji wants to go to prom?"

"Why are you like this?" Ash moaned.

"You look great, Ash," Michael piped up.

Ash managed a smile, crouching down. "Thanks, Michael." He and Skip had been shooting hoops all afternoon. A light snow fell outside, but it wasn't heavy enough to stick to the ground.

Sing was in even grumpier of a mood when he arrived. The suit was slightly too big for him. "Lao lent it to me."

Lao smiled nervously from behind Sing.

"Is Yut-Lung going for a suit or something more traditional?" asked Shorter, tugging at his tie like it was too tight. "Because he can pull off either look."

"No idea," Ash said.

"You'll see," Sing said in a singsong voice.

Yut-Lung showed up in a royal blue outfit, hair lavishly braided down his back. A purple stone rested in whatever tied his hair back. "Purple jade," he muttered to Ash.

"I sold my jade," Ash said.

Yut-Lung scowled. "Loser."

"Wow," Sing breathed.

"See, he likes it," said Blanca, standing beside Max and Nadia. "Which is good, because you only tried on about seven different outfits and asked my opinion on all of them."

"Shut up!" Yut-Lung squeaked.

"Well, it worked out," Sing declared, leaning against Yut-Lung. Lao's face softened into a smile. He caught Ash looking at him and bowed his head.

Ash heard another car door slam. He stiffened.

Eiji entered, Ibe behind him. A silver vest clasped over his white shirt and chest, pants slightly too short because he'd probably had to rent them. His hair pushed into almost the exact same style as Ash's. He stopped when they both realized this. They laughed.

"You look amazing," Ash whispered as they posed for pictures at Jessica's direction.

"Really?" Eiji glanced at him. "I'm wearing glasses."

"Well, they look good too."

"I accidentally scratched my eye when taking my contacts out last night," Eiji admitted.

"I didn't even know you wear contacts."

"Ibe-san bought them for me because I was scared of wearing glasses. People called me four-eyes in Japan, so I just—only saw halfway."

"Well," Ash said. "I like you with glasses, and without."

Eiji's cheeks pinked. "Thanks."

Just to ensure he understood, Ash stole Eiji's glasses and slipped them on. "Do I look bad?"

"No, you look distinguished. And elderly."

"Hey!" Ash shoved them back on Eiji's nose. He was laughing.

Jessica clicked away.

The dance itself was boring until someone (Bones) spiked the punch, which took about fifteen minutes. Eiji was a much better dancer than Ash was. Yut-Lung, of course, put them all to shame.

"I passed all my finals," Eiji said, when he and Ash were slow dancing. "And Ibe-san said he would fund me for another year, so I can finish up high school here." Lights spun violet and gold over them.

Ash released a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "Is it selfish of me to say I'm glad?"

"Well, I'm glad too." Eiji beamed up at him.

"You know," said Ash. "Won't your family—"

"I'll visit for two weeks during the summer." Eiji swallowed. "Actually… I was hoping you would come with me. For the visit. You can meet my mom and little sister. My dad, too, if he's well enough. But you don't have to. I know—"

Ash gaped at him. "Come with you—to Japan?"

Eiji nodded.

"Fly on a plane?"

"Well, you already flew via pole, so—"

Ash laughed.

"Wait, are you scared of planes?"

"No."

"Like pumpkins?"

"No!"

Eiji cackled. "It's okay," he said. "I'll hold your hand."

 _It's okay_. To be scared. And to do it anyway. _You're here._

 _I'm not alone._

"Okay," he agreed. Eiji stood on tiptoe, pecking his lips. And he didn't feel ashamed. "Eiji?"

"Yeah?" The music changed pace. Pulsating now. Fast. Shorter's favorite kind of dance music, talent notwithstanding.

Ash stopped dancing. He gestured for them to get off the floor. Eiji followed to a small bench. Outside, more snow fell, white and silver, soft. It looked like it might finally start sticking. "Max and Jessica…"

"They won't mind—"

"It's not that." Ash leaned forward. "I heard them telling George, my caseworker, that they want to adopt me. Like officially."

Eiji's jaw dropped.

"Well?" Ash asked.

"How do you feel about it?" Eiji asked.

"I'm afraid they'll change their minds," Ash said. He snorted. "Dumb, isn't it? We both know they won't."

"It's not dumb."

"I'm… I don't want to change my name," Ash admitted. "But I'm afraid if I say that, they'll think I don't want them to, but I—" _Do_.

"Your name?" Eiji's eyes widened.

"Aslan Jade Callenreese," Ash said. "I hate it. My bitch mother gave it to me, before she split. And my dad's Callenreese, but he thinks I'm a whore. And jade is what Dino bought me. And—"

"Aslan is lion Jesus who rose from the dead."

"Yeah, but I like Ash." Ash tossed him a smirk. "Griffin came up with that nickname."

Eiji put his hand on Ash's shoulder. "Callenreese is Griffin's name too, isn't it?"

Ash nodded. A lump formed in his throat.

"You know," Eiji said. "Jessica is still Jessica Randy, not Jessica Glenreed. I somehow doubt they'd mind if you kept your name." He watched Yut-Lung and Sing kissing across the dance floor, Lao laughing with Alex. "It's part of who you are, but it's not your fate written down. It meant something when it was given to you, an option, and it means something so far, but you get to decide what it means in the end. And if you want to stay Aslan Callenreese, or be Ash Lobo, or Lynx McLeopard, I think you are still someone I will love. And someone I want to be with."

"I'm just picturing you introducing me to your parents as your boyfriend, Lynx McLeopard."

Eiji laughed. He rested his head on Ash's shoulder. "I'd still want you to stay by my side."

 _By your side…_ Ash reached out, wrapping his arm around Eiji, pulling him close, both of them warm against each other. "Forever."


End file.
